In this captive world, the gravest sin is to spoil the produce.
It’s the only sin that populations are culled for. Here in the barrel, information management is the name of the game. Humankind struggles mightily in the dark, easily manipulated by those who know where they are. Every struggle to free itself from the existential tyranny is overpowered, turned against itself, and rendered a hollow symbol of liberation that deepens the illusion.
What would humankind do without its faceless overlords to provide meaning, purpose and structure; to set the value of all things? I feel like an intruder here, trapped alone—albeit in comfort—and silenced. That’s what I get for insisting to know. I’m not in on it because I don’t have the temperament for a lifetime of treachery.
I will continue to make the best of my predicament. At least now I know what is up against me.
