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Post by pearlquartz17 on Feb 21, 2016 18:41:12 GMT
To those who have abandoned the human race, to those who've given up, I say: look back. Look back to men who gave the flame of hope to creatures numbed by despair--their fellow men; look back to the great minds of aeons past, see how their works gave men a chance to improve, to ripen in the gilded light of Progress and reap the fruits thereafter. Do not these men fill you with that same hope that fueled their brethren to fare forward on seas of unknown futures?
Only reality exists, you say. No happiness, no dreams, no liberty. Only enslavement, automatic and inevitable, is there for each man to succeed his worn-out superannuated brother. If such was Mankind's sole predicament where would the Artist be? His soul's rebellion would be destroyed the moment he stepped forth from childhood to adulthood. Yet we have painters and poets, singers and novelists, all denizens of Earth who broke the mold, who grasped the jaws of life's supposed machine and rent it till it broke.
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