As the Lord was about to exhale, His adjutants lamented, "Won't it be a waste? Giving man that bit of freedom would make him vain and not for a bit."
And the Lord said, "It's alright. Variety can be beautiful too."
And the Lord gave man language, the ability to give names and meanings to His other works. And all that man could name and give meaning to, became putty in his mind and hands.
Some men remembered the conversation between the Lord and His Angels. Some others forgot.
The ones who remembered got lost and found themselves in places where names and meanings have no value. In the lands of the unnamed, where His throne rests, is the ultimate freedom: Meaninglessness.
The ones who forgot, the ones who never got lost, remained at names and meanings until they lost their tongues. Eventually, they too lost their tongues. Eventually, everyone remembered. And that too was alright.
Whether remembered or forgotten, the Lord waited in the Unnamed Lands. Void of meaning. Only Being.

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