My dear,
History is the fiction we invent to persuade ourselves that events are knowable and that life has order and direction.
The pleasant lie wrapped in a still young science that we whisper to ourselves in the moments of a heart’s loneliness to calm it down. “Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright in the future, just look at the past,” we tell ourselves.
History’s the myth we created with words and numbers of our own creation to convince ourselves that we can grasp life and make it walk a straight line.
Falsely yours,
William “Bill” Boyd Watterson II
