I’ve never had a problem helping out before. Making the right bit of gel to keep the building in place long enough for the supports to be placed. Throwing some well-placed globbed-up ropes to climb the mountain that much quicker. Being a good little builder, supplier, all-round laborer.

Hell, I’d’ve never thought of taking up writing about anything even a year ago. Never had enough words that mattered to write down; all my thoughts were good enough to stay in my head. But now… they’re hurting to get out and I can’t keep them all straight.

Nothing feels worthwhile. Why bother fixing and building when it will all come crumbling down, given enough time. Everything only has a small amount of time in the world before it fades to nothing.

And maybe that’s the point. Impermanence is the only stability. Thoughts and meaning may stick around longer than physical objects, but even they dwindle to nothing. Unless there’s something big enough to keep. Something that, once it’s made, will suffuse the world itself.

I haven’t been able to get it out of my head for a while now. I don’t know what it is, or what I need to do to satisfy it. Maybe it’s nothing. Hopefully it’s nothing. What does it mean? Why am I having these thoughts? What are they trying to tell me? What can I even do?

Maybe the goop is the answer? It keeps things in place, but maybe it’s actually just… pausing time? Keeping a rope stuck, not cause it’s sticky, but because there’s no time for it to fall. Maybe… maybe… the goop is permanence. Maybe… maybe… that can do something?

Old people just walk off all the time, to die cause they’re useless and don’t want to be a burden. But if they were stuck in time, if they were frozen in a state that didn’t require food, maybe… maybe… they could still be useful. Be pretty warnings of what time does to us all.

Maybe they don’t feel pain, or experience death. How could they if there’s no time?

Wait, is that what the goop does? Where did that idea come from?

It’s not sticky, it just kind of responds to what I want it to do. It stays in place, it is stasis. It is unchanging, it is permanence. It is the only permanence.

It can help where nothing else can. It can be a message, it can save people, it can make something new, it can withstand the savages of time, it can be something grand, it can be mine. That’s right, the goop is mine. It is me! I am permanence, I can save people, I can make them meaningful, I can do all this and more.

But… people can say no. They don’t want…

But what if they have no time? They can’t say no if there’s no time to say no in. Besides, if they’re already on the verge of death, then… I’d be saving them. They already said no to life, so they have no say in what happens, right?

They can be mine?

No… this is… weird. Where are these thoughts coming from? I just want to help… build… houses…

That fall apart and become worthless. That don’t even become memories, they just fade entirely. They might as well not exist.

But… when they do exist… they keep people warm. Safe. Shelter…

From the lies that they will die. Things strive for life, even when they always fail. You are the only one who has the power to preserve, to actually salvage their life and keep their essence intact.

I am the one… to keep… them alive…

Yes, I am the one to save those who don’t think they’re worth saving. And I can make them have meaning. I can give them meaning, share them with the world.

No… this is wrong.

Not yet. Time needs to pass, I need to be perfect before I can share them with the world.

Why is this…

Why did I not see this sooner? Why did I not realize that I am static, unchanging, instead of just a worthless pile of grunge? Why did I not realize that I could share this earlier.

Because… it’s wrong.

It’s wrong, but I can make it right. I can’t go back to save those that have already passed, but I can make sure those in the future do not have to share their fate.

I need to spare them from this fate. The fate of time. The fate of falling apart, becoming nothing, fading away.

Yes, you do.