Existence

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You don't know where you come from,
You don't know where you're going,
But you see them all the time and see how they live,
You understand that they have their lifestyle, that they live by their ideals, by what they call morality...

...But it's a vast, incomprehensible canvas for the consequences of the actions they take,

You don't understand them,

But you try to understand,

You look at them,

But you don't see yourself there.

There is no connection between you and what exists in this World you're in,

Then...

Who are you?

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—

It's raining outside, Mom.

It's been a while since I last felt that emptiness of not belonging to something.

I went towards destiny, without realizing that I was being pulled to meet you.

It's raining outside, Mom.

And I often wonder if, in this world, it is somehow sentimentally tied to The Constants.

I've been observing them, Mom.

Caring, instructing — with everything you taught me.

It's raining outside, Mom.

It's raining here, too.

They are drowning, Mom, outside.

While the walls are being built.

While the gate remains closed.

Under the weight of their own ego, I see them sink.

Drowned in their own ego.

The rain doesn't stop, Mom.

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The steps he took cast him far from where he was.
The steps he took guided him closer to what you once were.
The regretful steps he took distanced him from who he was

The heavy steps he took made him understand things that did not align with what he is.

The creator's sacrifices for his great work come at the cost of it's own life another creation;

With every choice, a renunciation. 

The old flourish in admiration beyond the horizon - where the blindfold briefly abandons his face - allowing the enjoyment of a glimpse of the horizon.

"...and you said I was taking the right path. And all these steps only created confusion about who he is;
...a hostage to humanity, a hostage to apathy - not trully free."

---

Where past, present, and future merge within the self, the Present stands at the core, distant and contemplative. The Old echoes with wisdom and yearning for realms beyond creation, while the Child voices questions and doubts, seeking truth from the echoes of time.

—

The Old  
— "He yearn for freedom."

The Child 

— "But - at what cost?"

The Old 
— "Beyond... Beyond what has already been created... Another place."

The Child 

— "Not here?"

The Old 
— "Not what has already been desecrated."