Updated: Jul 27, 2020
What is a foundation? Large, bare, and unremarkable: it is a promise. What is here now may look uninteresting and devoid of any detail, but that is precisely what we are looking for. We are looking to construct something monumental; something that can dwarf everything that came before it. A structure that can provide a shadow for Icarus. Something so large that it would tempt god into a staring contest. If we must need material, I will gladly take it from other structures. This promise will be fulfilled. I don't know if I can make it completely but I will give it my all. Even if I run out of materials to build with I must build on. The blueprints are useless now. I am in unprecedented territory. I am past the sky and can no longer see any planes. I am bringing whatever stone I can to help me complete this. I have forgotten my goal. I am out of stones and the construction has stopped. The Tower of Babel is below me but I feel subterranean. I cannot see my progress anymore. That goal I long ago forgot remains 4,000 miles out of reach. The stone I have rolled is at its zenith. There is no way up now. Just down. Maybe the collapse will stop halfway and I will be happy. Maybe I will be back to the foundation, forced to build again. Maybe I have been delusional of this blueprint. Maybe I never knew what I was building. Whatever way, I think I should focus on the moment. I am back at the foundation, ready to build again.