Philosophy of Sand

Like a clockmaker, I break down the face-value, study each nitty-gritty piece—and the manners in which the pieces interact with one another—and upon re-assembly, I know not only that the clock will tick, but I know why the clock will tick.

And understanding why makes all the difference in the world.

Without reason, there can be no pure truth.

Without purpose, there is no meaning.

In a world devoid of truth and meaning, in which reason is veiled by policy and purpose is masked by agendas, in a world shadowed by an omnipresence, all-seeing darkness—molding time (past, present, and future) to it’s benefit and our demise, the question for us all is no longer a question of why, but rather,

why bother?

If you learned the game was just a trick,

that in the end, you’ll never win,

would you walk away?

stand up and quit?

or would you

continue to play,

another ordinary day…

Nothing is ever perfect. Perfection, metaphysically speaking, cannot exist on this plane, because nothing will ultimately and finally be perfect. In this dimension, it is the nature of things to shift, change, to assemble and fall apart. There is no final, perfect, end. There is only process, flow, harmony, and balance. A Tai Chi of the Universe, a ballet of the stars. In which everything is connected to everything else, and—like ripples from a stone dropped in a pond—a singularity will create waves which alter the entire body of water.

The world isn’t perfect. It has never been nor will ever be. I accept this reality. What I refuse to accept are organizations, and their agendas, with vested interests in propagating the bleak imperfections of the world—agendas crafted to, in fact, exponentiate the very things the rest of us are trying so desperately to change. They are, literally, killing that which the rest of us are striving to save.

I have always asked why? I have always sought answers and fought for truth. I understand the inherent nature of things. When the house of cards comes tumbling down, when great cities are shaken to rubble, when the grand illusions fall from the skies and the Matrix goes offline,

there will be you, and I, and a mass of what-used-to-be’s—

building blocks.

The basic nature of things is substance and function. Elements and intent. Tools and design. If we find ourselves trapped in a sandcastle, we must realize that the sandcastle is not true reality; rather, the sandcastle is an entity of design, of intent, and, regardless of whose intent gave rise to form—it being the intent of others or, quite possibly, our very own—the existential truth of the sandcastle remains constant:

-sandcastles are made of sand

-sand may be structured by design and intent

-change the intent, and you change the castle

To reference the immensely relevant 1999 film, “The Matrix,” there is no spoon. The spoon exists because we believe it to exist. Begin to alter one’s conscious constructs of reality, and reality itself begins to change. Refuse the implemented realities that we have been deceived into accepting—for far too long—as truth, and slowly, the new waves of intent will wash away repressive structure, allowing room to build anew.

This is our task. We are being called upon to knock down their kingdoms of sand, destroying barriers, moats, and walls in order to topple the central towers. To free ourselves from their controlling power.

Then, and only then, once the land has been leveled, and we all stand, amongst the ruins, as brothers, sisters, and equals, with the common understanding that we’re all in this together, and that all we really have is sand, we may begin again.

Sandcastles for all.

-K. Nova. August 9, 2015