empty, aloof, dying to find something to live for...

Message to Readers

Please let me know what you think! I'm experimenting with a more philosophical style of writing, and I'd love to hear some feedback on it!

Condemnant quo non intellegunt

June 7, 2020


In an unimaginably long time, the last black hole will evaporate, and the universe will be nothing but a cold, empty sea of photons. It quietly seeps away in inevitable heat death, the warmth leaving every last ounce of what had once been, the things which were seen as the most amazing spectacles silently fading away into nothing. Every supernova, every black hole, every last semblance of matter will peacefully disappear forever and yet, they do not fear this death - an imminent event in the long life they’ve lived - an entirely neutral affair.

Time eventually becomes meaningless.

The entirety of the world they know today would have been long gone, every city, every building, every sullen-faced resident watering their wilting windowsill garden. Mankind believed they would live to see the death of Sol, the passing of Earth and the entire solar system in this uncaring universe -  yet still mourned the unavoidable departure of others who they’ve only known for an insignificant fraction of time. The deep sadness they experience when they leave their homes behind, a strange, living emotion no-one else quite understands - yet all of mankind can ascribe to.

Some curious nostalgia for a world left behind.

There were the dirty paved streets of a familiar neighbourhood, pasted with chewing gum and cigarette butts. The scent of an old memory, of the dust, the grime, the sharp sting of swirling tobacco smoke and occasional stench of the livestock markets. Seemingly endless ‘beeps’ of car horns like a million heart monitors, beating erratically along the tarmac road as if to say ‘you’re of no importance, move away’ in some vain self-important irritation. A world so far from now, yet the melancholy recollection of such a place still adheres like syrup - visiting faithfully every night. A place where the heavens above are always blanketed, starless. Yet the night lights of a city beyond shimmer like a million celestials in the sky, faraway stars flickering like a dying ember before fading away entirely into midnight blue. Under the starlight of the city, residents believed themselves gods of such a universe, the brilliance of each glowing spark cupped within their hands.
Among the wide cosmos, the solar system is the furthest point of reach, a barrier not yet breached. Anything beyond was nothing but a cloudy vault of heaven. Once, Ptolemy saw Terra at the centre of the universe, the sun and other planets orbiting her on celestial spheres - bowing down to a lone daffodil (1). But if we are so important, why is it when we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools? (2). Then placated, falsely taught that fools are those who do not believe in unanimous, honeyed lies of greatness. 

Galileo’s ideas were met with vigour, his “Siderius Nuncius” (3) supported, for it explored but complied - yet Terra’s children chose to ignore what challenged their superiority, still elevating themselves as the heart of infinity. Scared, lashing out like wild animals against those who object this cardinality, as they say… Condemnant quo non intellegunt (4)... But what difference does it make? For truths always reveal themselves in the end. 

The core of the cosmos no more.

A hard pill to swallow, perhaps. Many only realised on their deathbed the insignificance of their passing, a speck of dust drifting in the smog-filled skies of a world city. Even those who achieved greatness and recognition in their lifetime would gradually fizzle away with the spectacular, explosive dissipation of the sun, and even if that was not the end - the gradual heat death of the cosmos will claim all such memories. Conceivably, it may be the fear of the negligible significance of one’s life - or consternation on the idea of lingering in an unknown afterlife where individuality is no more. It does not matter. For human existence would be little more than a drop of water in the ocean of time, a meaningless sea.

In this short time, the most beautiful calamities will occur - for those too caught up in themselves, this will pass in the blink of an eye. Alone, at the end of the universe, they regret the only thing of beauty they ever saw was its death.
  1. Also called the narcissus flower
  2. A quote from Shakespeare's King Lear Act 4, Scene 6
  3. The Starry Messenger, a treatise by Galileo Galilei on his observations of Jupiter
  4. A reflection of the title: ‘They condemn that which they do not understand’


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  • June 7, 2020 - 4:26am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • outoftheblue

    oh my God this is absolutely stunning. I love how philosophical/musing this piece is. the comparisons to the cosmos, tying them with Greek mythology, everything just *works*.

    6 months ago