Where to begin?

The beggining?

I tried that, but it was not right, we live in a back to front era, so it is necessary to begin from the end.

In the end heaven and earth shall pass away and there will be a new beggining.

There will be a new universe full of new people and our ghosts will inhabit it in the form of rocks which will erode into sand which will become clay, which will become again human, where we shall be slaves to the new generation.

Others of us will acheive nirvana by eliminating evil, some will acheive partial nirvana by resisting evil.

The moral of the story is that there always ought to be a moral.

All rivers flow to the sea yet the sea is not full, to the place where they come from there they return.

But not all rivers reach the sea, some dry up in the heat long before they reach the sea, which to my mind is a peculiarly tragic fate.

Our river will not reach the sea, it will become a narrow trickle of contaminated water which will be diverted to the sewer, it will not be fit for the sea.

The force of ego will cause people to enslave others, who will do so by enslaving their apetites.

But the egotists will become enslaved by their own apetites and they will enslave each other.

And there will come a time if such a thing as mercy exists then fire and destruction shall come upon them.

But then it must be said that, that might not happen, but that is the course that we are running.

To understand how we got here we must go back to the beggining, but here we are still at the end, it is almost unbearable but we must continue regressing further.

Think back to the last day of one of the last civilisations worthy of the name.

It was on an isolated planetoid, free of contact from other stars many long years after even earth's firmament was shattered.

By then the process of colonisation had been polished to a better point than it had ever been before.

For half a million years these gentle people had built their temples, tended their subterranean gardens, watched the stars and pondered the universe, not realising it was out to get them all the time.

Down came the transporter beams to take the unlucky ones, the explosives came down taking away the lucky ones in minutes.

Their ancient journals are kept, everything else is turned to rubble, all the life giving minerals are extracted from it within a week.

No time to mourn, no one left to truely mourn, maybe a twinge of regret from the watching operatives, how many of the operatives? how many operatives were there anyway?

There was someone left to mourn; waiting, unseen as always, there must have been.

Then we go back, a long way back, to the war between the Northern Caliphates and the Empire when the Earth's atmosphere was stripped away and humanity was stripped of it's home and left to wander through space.