03. The Marikor

We pledged the Marikor together, blending our fates into one.

In the end, blood is meaningless. As the revelations tell us-- there is no self to cling to (apart from the shared existence of us all) no time but what has already passed, no life, in fact, just matter-- matter that might think but can never be consequential or necessary.

There is no truth in sentiment, no reality accessible by the senses, no consciousness to claim, only the ineluctable pull of molecules and their diaphanous weight in the expanse of time.