Literary Nihilism: Or The Consequences of Literary Fatalism

It happens in a shattered realm of mirrors

Bits and pieces collectively making a necessary past

It’s you, then

And it’s you in the future

Not of the bits nor pieces trivial, although we would want them to be

Calling them trivial gives us more legitimacy

But they were there

And without them being there then we wouldn’t be here now

Read enough pages, tie together enough plots

See the endings that begets the next ending

Tying us into a web that only opens our eyes to focus on a the eight legs coming for us

So much infinite space

And all see are eight eyes

One time in high school, the teacher told the student reviewing my paper for grammatical errors, “any number higher than ten has to be written out.” Then she marked my “eight” as incorrect. “It should be ‘8’”. So the fucking conclusion is if you have to talk about the number fourteen million three hundred forty-five thousand three hundred forty-five you have to type it out? This is what the future holds for me?!

If you read enough

The best books by the brightest humans on Earth

You get to see the future

The pattern emerges from so many examples of what really is

We see what really is. How it is. And how it foretells what becomes.

A fatalism attacks our conceptualization of teleology

Falling prey to dogma

The end is already, so we play no part

Or rather, the part we play is already

So no need for a second thought

A controversial thought

There it is

It was going well until the what-we-think-avoidable presents itself

And we’re armed with dogma-friendly ignorance

This second thought is extremism

It leads to genocide, hate, tyranny

And therefore we accept the fatalism of books

We find nihilism in the infinite meaning of meaning

Nothing but what was foretold what came