To The Lost (first letter)

I never meant for this project to be important somehow, but it became important to me anyway.
There isn’t a not sent letter promising to reinvigorate stale, hyper-specialized academic disciplines and artistic practices by situating the human condition within some kind of holistic accounting at a cosmic scale. There’s never been a goal for this project to produce a universal story providing readers with a basic framework for subsequent studies, creative acts and life itself. It’s never tried to fill the existential void left by the ostensible erosion of religious beliefs — and yet generating relatable paradoxes has been unavoidable. Nothing has been impossible including the impossible. It’s as if these efforts suggest a big picture of shared aspirations that also divide us (or perhaps what isolates us from ourselves and others). Is this the nature of language? Do things have natures? What is a nature?
Some not sent letters have certainly been fragmented by emotional, geographic, temporal and epistemological particularity, with narrow study replacing seemingly old-fashioned, large-scale narratives — but they have also, despite the commonplace entrenchment of an incredulity towards metanarratives, headed in an opposite direction. Some letters have broadened their purpose beyond a particular focus, questioning the utility of evidential record in the process (largely in writing). This has been an incidental challenge to the foundational premises of modern theoretical analysis. When we decide that our deductions should extend beyond verifiable sources, a speculative realm, hierarchically contested and full of monsters, is entered. Society has already existed within this realm (largely without acknowledging it) all of my life. Existence is coming to a head now, or an end if you like, because of it.
It has been argued that we won’t be able to know ourselves and get out of this mess without understanding the long period of time in which our species lived as gatherers and hunters, an era largely devoid of evidential record — and that paleolithic society, in its turn, can’t be fully grasped without some sense of our evolution over several million years. Such arguments can seem only to offer endless regress (not pragmatically useful with such an ominous deadline looming over life as we know it), but they also reinvigorate ideas of the future (including those that are not held hostage by a capitalist death cult). Or do they? What is important to you? Is this important? You might assume there’s no time left to explore these sorts of questions but how can you fight the good fight if you don’t know what you’re fighting for?
Here we are and so it goes — at least to me.