The one thing you must learn as a human being is humility. Humility in the face of knowing we are but brilliant flashes of light in the life of Mother Earth. Brilliant because we’ve developed an understanding of reality unsurpassed by any living thing, but as brief as a lightning strike. There, and then gone. We claim existence for thousands of years, when this earth can claim billions. And it has harbored life for many of them. Humanity can believe it is special, but we are still meant for the same purpose as every other living thing. To continue the cycle. We all have our parts to play, and our enemy intends to change that part, to manipulate it until it means the withering death of this planet that has given us so much. Our enemy intends to infect us—to make us lose our way until we are nothing more than viruses and vessels of destruction and plague. Our enemy has existed for a long time, almost as long as we have, and it works its deathly work slowly but without pause, like a river of lava making its way across a forest floor. Almost unstoppable, and manifesting in moments of glorious destruction, such as the Tunguska Event, or whatever Event is destined to occur in your life.

This is why I can never stop writing. Moments like this, when my story becomes more than just a story, I can convey my thoughts and feelings through the medium of a character I’ve created. The moment I do this, my character is no longer a piece of fiction, but a living, breathing entity. At least that’s what they become in my head.

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