Interlude: On Futility and the Individual

(Journal Entry 006)

Can I be honest? I have no idea what I’m doing. After these first few trips… I don’t know how I’m supposed to withstand what’s ahead of me anymore. When [REDACTED] first appeared before me, I’d assumed I was staring into the face of death itself. And I was, but more than that, I was staring into the face of inevitability.

I’ve been given a choice. But not a good one. Two options, both abhorrent. And they’re all I can do; my first instinct, to step outside the bounds of my charge and seek a better answer, failed in an instant. I have no better options.

What does one do when faced with an insurmountable obstacle, then? As an individual facing a system—an unchangeable system, even? My [REDACTED] would tell me that no system is unchangeable. That one must merely imagine a better world and fight for it. She considered that the only just approach. And I wish I could agree. I wish… I wish a lot of things. But without a coalition of support, isn’t the fight for a better world entirely individual? What can one [REDACTED] do against an infinite system that has existed since the dawn of time?

Even smaller systems refuse to die. For instance, this awful auto-censoring widget the [REDACTED] put on my journal. Why does it need to censor [REDACTED]??? Everyone knows that word, it’s not a secret! [REDACTED] secrets I can understand, but basic terminology even a child would know? Why do you need a password to read about [REDACTED]? [REDACTED]. Fuck. [REDACTED]. Shit. I can’t even put spaces between the letters to fool it. By the Wills, I’m going to scream if I have to deal with this shit for the rest of this trip.

But do you see what I mean? If I can’t even circumvent this horrid little journal, what am I supposed to do against [REDACTED]? When the answers to all the ails of the world seem so obvious, yet not a soul in that world wishes to seek them… what does one person do? Maybe I’ll figure it out, I don’t know. I have a long journey ahead of me. But still, I can’t see myself making a dent in this omnipresent shroud of doom around me. How could I when I have to watch [REDACTED] consume civilization after civilization? When, worse, the [REDACTED] [REDACTED]? [REDACTED], [REDACTED]. [REDACTED].

[REDACTED].

[REDACTED]. [REDACTED], but [REDACTED].

[REDACTED].

Even if I gathered every [REDACTED]—Wills, why not throw in every [REDACTED], too—and we all worked together, even [REDACTED]’s slightest passing whim could obliterate us in an instant. When faced with that… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

Truly, I’m as lucky as they come, for I have power none other—not even [REDACTED]—could ever hold. And yet, that power is nothing. Even with everything I have, I am, at the end of the day, one [REDACTED] against the Three Spheres. And even if I [REDACTED], that would hardly be any more meaningful than killing myself.

So, what? Do I run? Seek a peaceful reality, enrich myself, live the good life in my isolated corner of the world? Do I look for happiness on an individual scale while everyone else burns? Just because I have the privilege to run? Is that okay for me to do? Would it even matter one way or another?

No clue. Might be nice, though. Caring sucks.

Wills, I’m tired. I think I’m gonna just lie here on the floor for a while.

 

Hello, friends! If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on ! If you'd like more stories, I post new chapters to my mainline series every Monday and Friday, and I upload a new short story every other Wednesday! Below are some of my other stories.

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: The world ends, and two men, Dan and Andrew, must rush to the shore for safety, pursued by a vengeful soldier and the remains of her family.

 

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