The Point of It All.

And thus, they all laid neutral, at peace, granting this death like it was meant to be bestowed so long ago. For each of them, their torment, their unease, their sins and all of their fulfilled wishes were long paid with change to spare. For each of them, they felt a sense of respite and gratitude, something long forgotten; a sense of humanity. They were ready for this, though. Some more than others, sure, but for the majority, it mattered not. Only three remained.

They were the descendents of their race, leaders of the children of the resting who would inevitably come to secure their place in their respective universe and others beyond. So much time, so much effort, all of it not in vain, for there is no such thing as wasted time. Children of Chompas gather from across reality, to spread their seed and avoid cataclysm (unless something has been invented to effectively see to that flaw) only to spread and teach, to train and to lead all conscious and unconscious life into the path of eternal evolution for the end goal of absolute Enlightenment. True Enlightenment. 

To see to the end, is to see to new beginnings with lacking context. The truth of reality will be displayed, but unspoken. Until the evolution of reality comes to the consensus that for eternity, we are all one, we are the moment, we are the uplifting hope that truth and fiction are indeed one in the same. It is as real as the cosmos, as real as we interpret it to be. For some, that is enough to find peace beyond the gunk and beyond the torment we all, all, go through. 

Legacies and legends are one in the same with the Chompa race. Their youngest will push forward and spell new sagas where the elders demanded respite and did all they could to improve the evolution of reality. Lives gone, left with all of their marks and progress, for the next generation to finally use to their, and in turn, the universe's advantage. 

Life implies death. Death implies life. Suffering is existence, overcoming it and pushing forward is the song we must dance to, lest our worth and effort be in vain. It never will be, not with this many of us. In the end, the eternal song will chime, end, and begin again. We lose nothing. We come into this world with nothing, we leave with nothing. What have we lost?

Nothing. 

Beyond the races and the religions remains the consciousness of every single entity. The perspectives, the buds, the interpretations, the selves. What are their values? Everything. No matter what they do, their legacy carries on for the sake of infinite evolutionary complexity, and it's only just begun. It only ever has, it only ever will. As far as we are concerned, the creatures of this reality, of this universe, of this planet, we are forever immortal in the legacies we leave behind. Good or bad, it matters not. We learn from both. Pass or fail, we learn from both. As a collective, we thrive for eternity, even if the individual only grasps a segment of the story. 

Perhaps we will one day hatch, and become something greater. Perhaps one day, we will see to our own destruction, and dissolve into obscurity forevermore. The former seems more likely, since we are still here, aware and alive, as we call it, and so long as we are, hope is never lost. 

Achievement. Fulfillment. Peace. We all have the potential to reach it. Is it always easy? No. But, that is what the struggle is good for. It builds us, it makes it worth doing. Only you can convince yourself of this and solidify it into your being. All I can do is remind you that you're special, you're worth the investment, the energy, the pain, the struggle, the effort. In the end, for you, and I, well, all we can do is the personal achievements and ensure we go without fear, without resentment, without a sense of failure. We are all worth this and every other life we live, for better or worse, for there is no way we can actively avoid existing and experiencing these hardships or struggles. If we could, well, what would life be like otherwise? 

Right now, we may never know. The individual implies the collective, and vice versa. Can't live without duality, after all. Seems interesting, to be who we are; it feels so personal, no? So distant, so very, isolating. It is unavoidable, yet undoubtedly true. It is not ideal, sometimes, yet it happens, since we are creatures of consciousness, or perhaps not. Some mock, others impersonate, or so they believe. But I won't get too deep into that. Not yet, at least.

Value and life is what you make of it. In the end, it is what you demand be true to your own existence that solidifies it. Worry not. It is equally valid, and will be a part of the collective consciousness forever, albeit snuffed or subdued in the long run. Evolution runs its course, and we grow with each and every action, thought, emotion, and lack thereof equally. 

I am rambling at this point. I just want you to know that I love you. Unconditionally. It goes without saying, but perhaps I've spent too much time in silence. That's why I write, after all. To show you how much I've grown, and learned, and experienced, and created, thanks to you, and to the collective you. You'd have to be instituted to completely comprehend my love for you, and it doesn't have to be mutual. It matters not. That's the funny thing about love. Sometimes, well, the games we play demand a specific action to be done, but I'm throwing away the board and the pieces and saying this with absolute sincerity. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love you. Trivialities aside, we come out of the same stuff, the same space. The same reality. 

Drama aside, well, shit. What is left? 

You. Me. Us. Everything. It's all the same shit. What else would it be?