A call for defiance against the notion that none of this is real.
|The truest measure of one's strength is the determination with which they toil against the dying of the light.
Even without the shelter of certainty's aegis, the swords we swing in defiance of the incontestable Void are the same which sever our bindings to an all-consuming, solopsistic horror. And when bone crumbles, the will endures; an anchor, though immaterial, fixing us to a physical world still.
Death's eventual erasure belies that our hunt for purpose is the purpose... even if purpose is nowhere to be found.