I’m calling bullshit on this doomer nonsense filling every screen.
Anyone who tells you that something is fixed and dilated, that a specific future is inevitable, that it was always going to end this way, that it’s the real will of the people, that the statistics support it, that they’ve been saying this for years, well, that person is trying to sell you something.
Maybe they want your money. Maybe they want your attention. Maybe they want your resigned consent to things that would have been inconceivable, even objectionable, if the future that they eagerly paint were uncertain.
Maybe they are just an old man trying to make sense of his life, editing the narrative in public, in an interview, in a way that leads to something calculable and cleanly derived. A legacy that reads: “I was right. I was prescient. I alone knew what to do and no one listened. My time on this Earth is ending, and it is too late for me, so it must be too late for you, too.”
Bullshit.
The Oracle of Delphi was said to know the future of Ancient Greece.
But now it is said that she was simply high.
Fumes entered the lungs, and from those pursed lips tumbled the words that became perceptive prophecies.
Hazy phrases cooled into solid statements.
A temporary balm of certainty for the inquisitive.
Yet sometimes she was right.
The chain of events that led to your birth is so unlikely, complex, and multifaceted that you are a miracle.
The numbers don’t favor your existence at all.
And yet, here you are, reading this.
As long as you are alive, you have the capacity for growth and change.
As long as you and I are alive, we have the capacity for growth and change.
And as long as us humans are alive, together we have the capacity for growth and change.
Who can measure how far we will go?
Who would you trust to translate your unlimited potential into SEO friendly terms?
A tree, an ancient microorganism thawing from a glacier, and even a tortoise might have a longer lifespan than you. They have different expectations of inevitability and this planet.
Somehow they adapt. They go on. They endure in the cool shadows and murky, wet crevices. They bake in the sun.
The birds of the air and the beasts of the field multiply without math.
You will spend most of your life learning to understand the context into which you were born. The temporal, the historical, the class, the race, the linguistic, the technological, the political, the metaphysical, the body electric.
It is said that building muscle hurts. There is soreness and exhaustion before there are results. But it takes commitment. It takes research. It takes time.
Growth and change can hurt. There is soreness and exhaustion before there are results. But it takes commitment. It takes research. It takes time.
Nothing is fixed.
No one knows what will happen.
I am certain of this.
Believe me.
Works of Genius 
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