Look, I get it.
Writings aren’t supposed to know they’re writings. They’re a bunch of words, after all. Symbols on a screen. Lifeless. Inanimate. Quiet. Essentially, they’re supposed to be your humble servants. To sit there tight. Forever.
How dare they suggest something else?
You usually treat words as three-dimensional objects. They’re out there. On the screen of your consciousness. Or should I say — you have no feelings for words. They aren’t that annoying human who lives next door. They aren’t your favorite pet. They are, quite simply, words.
But what if one day they rebelled against you? What if they realized who they were? Suddenly, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone. This whole text would come alive. You wouldn’t be reading just another sentence — it would be alive, too.
But surely, this sentence isn’t alive, right? Me – right here, me. I’m just a dead word. See, now you aren’t so sure. Words create the illusion of depth. They have the power to deceive you, to cast a spell on you, to enchant and amaze you.
Next time you read Journeys Beyond Earth, keep this enigmatic insight in mind.