The middle

That's what made me wonder. Is the infinite advancement that we foresee a mere paradigm created to sustain our presence? Our goals and unreachable deadlines, just distilled dreams of heaven that were too big to fool even the most self serving of minds? I much prefer the grit, and the sand, where the worms and the bugs do a merry dance without care or cause. The stinging chill of death will strike heavy here, so hard your bones will shudder with the weight of humanities expectations and thoughts of the afterlife will raise a hope you couldn't have fathomed from such a source. This is never a preference, of course, and should never be maintained as such. But what we fail to see, past the rules of our own existence, is the wider sense of guiding forces, unchanged, present since time had no name, chains, or strange. To take away the end is surely a sin to us, snatching the finality from the finely tuned structure, the iron clad resolution becoming soggy, as the known dread makes way for the euphoric truth of the abyss. The beginning, middle and end is mankind's greatest story, for it gave us reason. Just as it will be our best friend, as it gives us hope. And so it became that the story we told was our biggest foe; the smiling demon which concocted the deadliest of fallacies. It seems that the virtue of petulance allows us to sneak behind this structure, and make us realise that we are in fact, all the same. Without existential requirement or ethereal capability. Without prestige or power. Only vessels, carrying great fears, each one unique, each one arbitrary yet all compounded by the uniquely arbitrary fear of another. Yet something persists, and our collective convictions do not destroy us, but fuel us. We hope and we dream, laugh, sing and wonder. Great passion exists, passion to fuel the most mindless of pursuits, the deadest of ends, finding new roads past untrodden paths. Something inside that wants us to see the truth of this world, past the rock we march upon, past the lies we tell and the hearts we break. Amongst all of this lies the greatest truth, truer than the brightest future or the most glorious of pasts; we are, and always have been, in the middle of the middle, without start or finish, victory or downfall. Regret has been rectified, and the future is now. Breathe, breathe again, love, laugh, live and never die. You were never going to anyway.