• Vol. 01
  • Chapter 12
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Sisyphus

Karma is a mountain. Life is an ocean of deeds. 'Forever' has no fate - dead ends rarely do. We might as well give up. But we can't.
Why? Well. See.
Satan fell and took Eve down with him. Adam came tumbling after. With humanity crashing down in his wake, like waves against the shore of shame. The waves keep trying to wash the sand off but the ocean keeps them well supplied. Nothing to be done.
We are Sisyphus, you and I. We love, we can't. We laugh, we can't. We cry, we sob. We live, we must.
It has been 2700 years now. One wonders what became of Sisyphus. He brought humanity what it wanted the most - immortality - against the wish of the Gods. But immortality did not mean the body would freeze in a state of youth. The seasons go billowing by and little bits of the soul depart. The winds won't carry us back to Eden; the seasons keep us where we are. Cosmic cycles thicken the misery of existence. There is a reason why Autumn is also called Fall.
It has been 2700 years now. Sisyphus, preserved in mind and body has escaped cosmic time. After many centuries of rolling the stone up only to follow it down, the boulder became his own rolling head and he was kicking it along - he must. A few more centuries of this and Sisyphus has turned to stone. Camus spoke of that moment of consciousness during the descent of Sisyphus when he becomes bigger than his burden - well, Camus was right. Sisyphus is a man-mountain now.
His body is slowly turning into a mountain from the feet up - the new-born stone crushing the blood out of his body as he helplessly watches, conscious and in pain, the ocean of his life's deeds stilled by grief.
This mountain is the new metaphor for life - of not just suffering but of suffering AND suffering consciously - it does not make one bigger than their burden. It makes one broken, broken beyond belief.
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Sisyphus

You become your own burden and as the ocean fills up in front of your eyes, you are hollow; emptied and spent.
Adam had discovered this new world only to realize that the monarchy of God prevails still. The only difference is, he is conscious of his servitude. Sisyphus, the man-mountain, is the new Olympus. Once the skin wrinkled with age turns into cracked stone, the Gods will have fresh territory to reign over - a kingdom that took 2700 years to build itself. Like the chopped off thumbs that the Taj Mahal grows yellow upon, Sisyphus-Olympus - the mountain of blood-earth - stands upon the broken spirit of the artist who dared to defy.
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