look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair


there was time, you know. all the signs were there, as were you. the little kernels of now embedded themselves so quietly into our newly open, bastion of human knowledge.
how were we supposed to know?, you think. how were we supposed to know?, and yet it all seems so glaringly obvious now.
how is one supposed to know when one is unwittingly complicit in the unraveling of truth?