By the time you read this, we will already be dead.
We thought it could be otherwise, but there was wisdom in that old axiom. In the end, we all die alone. It started, as all things do, with an idea. Simple in its complexity. Brilliant in its simplicity. Just as language cements the bond in the small, so too it divides the large.
Surely language is a gift the ability to map the mind to guttural phonetics and then back again allowing the thoughts of one to be shared by others. But it is an obscenely inadequate gift borne of our animalistic origins. Humans are, after all, just an animal with a communication instinct, weaving words as a spider weaves its web. Language allowed the human animal to form tight knit tribes. It allowed us to thrive. But language and the tribe had outlived their usefulness. We were a global society consisting of a vast population, a million tribes, defined only by our differences. And these differences bred war. Our gre