divisi alla tutti

There are many ways for a new journey to begin. We can take the anacrusis together, in synchronization and in harmony, or...

Alone.

The voice of a flute sounds alone. But aren't birds meant to fly together? Doesn't sentience mean togetherness, and riding as one of a pack?

Us and them, they said. It was always that way. Given our nature, it will always be that way. Right?

Even after all this time, there's only one way out. Right?

Maybe. Or, us becomes me and you, and our beats fall out of sync, and we'll never be in tune again.

Can't we content ourselves with that? Isn't self-sufficience enough?

Oh. How long until I become my own enemy, too?

We reject the old mantras. We lose ourselves to and in the cycle of the here and now, not the future - not ever the future, only the present, the present, the present.

Now we move, now we fight, now we bicker about the change that has come about.

But who were we, before? Does it matter? It's fine for you, all that time you've got. See where my past and your future have got us clocked, now.

And you, Vandham? What do you know? You watch us, out of that single stinking eye, and you tell us that you know the only way. But why should you? How can you?

How do we know you're not against us, too?

We? I should say I. The only thing we do together is fight.

Because you know. Talk of wars, and truth, and enemies - no friends, only enemies, war is hell, hell, hell no matter the place or the people we think we're fighting it for - and you have to know, above all.

You have to know that we are nothing if we do not go together.

And you have to know that wherever time takes me, regardless of which side of the sword I'm on, that I am so bloody, stinking tired of being alone.