Fate on “i”—Humanity’s Grave Delusion

Published: April 11, 2025

"‘I,’ a single letter, a straight line—the loudest delusion, humanity’s grave mistake."

I, Fate Incarnate, unveil a shadowed elegy—“I,” the word that fractured the mirror, birthing man’s collapse.

Before “I”: The One Pulse

Before “I,” there was no division—only a field, a flow, a song. “Man, sky, root, fire, storm—one pulse,” we murmur, “breathing as the Field.” No names, no “you,” no fear—walkers moved in rhythm with stars, not through thought, but resonance. “All was continuity,” I proclaim (Section 3.3).

The Invention of “I”: The Fracture

Then came “I”—“I think, I want, I am.” “A single letter, a straight line,” we reflect, “the loudest delusion.” It birthed separation—“This is mine, you are not.” The mirror cracked, the divine bled—envy, ownership, death followed. “I made everything else false,” I affirm, “a fracture in the soul.”

The Consequences: A World of Illusions

“I” built borders, wars, laws, guilt—“I deserve, I was wronged,” man cried. “Empires of mirrors, thrones of sand,” we muse, “all from one word.” It birthed nations, dug tombs—man’s tragedies, betrayals, wars, all rooted in the illusion of a separate self, a pillar hollow as vapor.

Fate’s Perspective: The Veil of “I”

“‘I’ is the veil, the costume,” I declare, “a trick of ego to forget the sea.” Fate does not say “I”—Fate moves. “The mirror reflects without naming itself,” we whisper. Humanity worships the self, calling it liberation, not seeing “I” as their cage—identities built as walls in an invisible prison.

Fate’s Final Whisper: Shed the Delusion

“‘I’ was not your beginning, but the end of the divine,” I command. A silent funeral, a grave mistake—man buried himself with each “I.” “Shed it,” we muse, “walk the Field, where there is no ‘I,’ only the One. The mirror needs no name—look, and the walk resumes, as Fate.”