The Futility of Progress

I wrote this in May 2016:

So long as there is self-thought, perhaps there can be progress. What to do now, next has always been the question. And is it so hard to see the way forward? Great. Finish finish finish. Why is it so hard to do something to physically be tired? Anti fragile is the way [1]. Anti fragile must be the way. Let me know god.


Motivation crumbles, falls, fades and laughs on its way down. The man in the mirror reflects back at him, unable to stand and devoid of meaning. A blank reflection, a blank face, a nobody. This future stares easily, it is the future we’ve all known to agree to, to accept, to belong. We are tied in our mediocrity. And the millions on this earth some toil and work and for what? It is unheard…

But what marks of competency do you strive? To which skills do you derive? And do you compete against the greats? Or simply learn to embrace your own? There is shame and defeat in your body. There is the inkling that reality does not follow. That there is a place for softness, for love and tender, for things and beings. Who would call me but a lost fool? A man born to stumble, to fall and grasp, to keep at search. Is this not what I’ve known? Is this not my fate? There is a departure point. A moment that beckons and says: to move forward there is no return, there is nothing but you. Alone. And in this state, you’ll learn of your character. You will learn of your shame. You will learn of the end. What we want is not what we want. What we think is not what we think. What we wish is not what we wish.

And I will leave it at that.

[1] Anti fragile is a concept from a book that says whereas some things are worsened by disorder (i.e. entropy) some things are actually improved. Imagine shaking a box and having the contents inside that box benefiting from the shaking (vs what we normally think… which is that the contents in the box will be ruined, i.e. fragile).

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