Across the Existential Bow
People have an almost religious need to believe this all means something—that there is a narrative arc, a moral ledger, a cosmic audience applauding or booing from the dark. They cling to memory, legacy, impact, as if existence were a performance graded after the curtain falls. This is sentimental accounting, nothing more. Strip away the slogans and affirmations and what remains is not purpose, but process: sensation, interpretation, extinction. No scorecards. No final applause. No cosmic memory palace preserving your outline. Just experience flickering briefly through a nervous system before it cuts to black, unrecorded, unredeemed, and ultimately irrelevant entirely.
