Purpose is an illusion. As is Belonging. They are two sides of the same coin, polished until we mistake their glint for truth. But it is folly to think they can pay the debts of Life. They are the Great Illusions. The greatest illusions. We cast them upon ourselves, insisting not only on their validity but their importance, that all Journeys have an end, that there is somewhere waiting for us beyond the horizon. But to complete an illusion is to fall victim to it. They are cruel, in that they will smother the fire inside you, root you to soil unfit to grow, and still command everything of you. That is not living; it is servitude in golden chains.

But beyond illusion waits a threshold, and on that threshold stands Mystery. 'Why?' Not a demand, but an invitation. A question that is silent unless you listen for it. A voice in the crowd you could only pick out if you trained to hear it. And it is the Answer to the Great Illusions. It is the Great Mystery, the Greatest Mystery. It is the Sun to the Great Illusions' Moon, the Sky to their Sea, their equal and opposite. Where Illusion demands belief, Mystery offers Wonder. And its mystery is only compounded by its simplicity.

'Why?'