First a song that speaks volumes about not just love but our infatuation of persons whom are “above us”. Those whom we give too much power:
The pedestals on which we place mortals and influence, signifies the power we absolve within ourselves.
There will come a time when all that you believe to be truth will be challenged. Fundamental truths will become rudimentary fiction. Fiction will be sold as solidity. In these times we will grapple to material forms and thoughts to clinch onto our variants of reality. The last futile attempts to make sense in an unsound world. We reach to those things that we know. Those things which we have experienced. And when that attempt becomes obsolete, we clutch the closest thing within our reaches before our world becomes unbounded. After all, what an unnerving thought that reality is not what it seems. Even the strongest of us cannot escape the clutches of some kind of disquietude. The seemingly calmest of thoughts hides an alternate tempest. It is nature to survive. It is nature to thrive. It is nature to change to that which changes around us. It is nature to want to live and not die. What is not natural is getting lost in that advancement. What’s more, nature is not favoring to any human being. It does not look out for your best interest, therefore there must always be a struggle. It is during these times when we cling to our reality…that this struggle becomes momentous . The slightest path is rarely the holiest. The closest saviors are those whom we put on artificial pedestals to feign a sense of tangibility in our world;to hold on to a comfort that is built on fables. We give away our power and pretend that we know not what we do. Even more surprising is the facility in which we hand this power over to our artificial saviors so that our lives become closer to the mean.
There is danger when you hand your power willingly to another. When you place your beliefs on the pedestal of the mortal whose purpose bears no consequence to you. Their truth becomes your truth. Then their reality becomes your version of reality. No longer do we tread that fine line, the balance has been crossed. The struggle has been removed and all that seemed to be will be lost in the seas of artificial saviors. The perfect balance between that which could be and that which is has been disrupted. The endowment that nature has bestowed unto all has lost all its meaning. Choice is no longer a virtue. And the fallacy of truth created by your artificial savior guides your every move.
Chess is dead.