To Fools (first letter)

Dear Folks,
I thought you were all Don Quixotes.  Each of you was bound to whither quickly and  die after realizing your folly.  How can anyone recover from a lifetime of madness, of ignorance?
The rest of us, always very few, managed to stave off implosion early on (or so I thought).   We’d somehow been able to perceive the way things actually are.  Some of us have tried to not be arrogant about this.  We’ve been proud of concealing our vanity.  We’d endured, or so I thought, an objective awakening to the World, a shift in awareness that has left us disillusioned and weary for the vast majority of our lives (all this time remaining to us).  We’ve embraced forms of escape from the pain of it, the trauma of the Truth.
My favorite artists and intellectuals have assisted this displacement process.  Each of us has knowingly constructed elaborate understandings of meaninglessness, the imminence of Death, Forgetting, Ruins. Our disillusionment has been a fuel to keep us burning.
While you’ve been busy being idiots, we’ve been articulating the fate of us all (our shared condition).  We’ve been doing what we can about it, hurtling our consciousness into the Void.  I used to believe my actions proclaimed a kind of choice, a defiance.
Then one day I woke up, as if from a dream, and had an uncanny sense of being myself for the first time in my life.  This recognition was fleeting, but I can still recall the impact of its startling particularity. Each successive moment brought/brings new identifications with it, and I can no longer claim to be what I was, or could be, in each of these ongoing instances before the next moment arrives.
All the same, I’ll tell you now with certainty that I’ve been Don Quixote too. The Void might as well be a windmill — or a parking lot, my headache, or the coffee I’m drinking as I write.  I’ve discovered a kind of clarity in knowing I don’t know much about who I am or what I’m becoming.  It’s a paradox that stays with me despite the perpetual erasure of the present.
Please forgive me for ever thinking and feeling I was better than any of you.
jeremy