吧bel tower

Jacobski, in turmoil within himselves. This would be the austere breaking of character. He was THE one refusing to take part in anything - not even the misery nor the bliss of life. An existential enigma. Now, no more.

Jacobski was roaming the forest, looking for a pond. He would come to the water and ponder in which direction to travel by looking at the clouds and their shapes. But now he could not even find the pond. The cosmic owl inhabited the northern part of the giant forest, in a big tree. Being old comrades, Jacobski decided to seek assistance from this ancient being.

The cosmic owl, huge and vile-bile smelling from the galactic rabble worming in its starry gown; feathers magnificient. Scouting left and right in every plane and direction - finally eye locking with you for all eternity in the vast empty space.

"Travel to the babel tower, Jacobski. Before you travel, do not forgot to make yourself a good lunchbox. The induvidually chosen lunchbox is the cornerstone of  every great character. Institutions will try to force the collective homogenised no-choice of food upon thee but I say nay. Nay to brown goo and sandwiches en masse - but yes to ryebread plastered with eggs on a bed of butter.

..Anyways" The tremendous bird ranted.
Cosmic owl hilled its pipe and exhaled a vision:

"Every page already exists.
Every poem,  every joke, every lie, every possible detail about your birth and death, everything that could have been said and will be said can be found in the library of babel. Its omnicient, eerie collection of everything blurs the line between invention and discovery. Look in the right dusty bookcase and the right answer shall be written before your eyes. An infinite collection of finite things that can be said. Is that it? Is there then no more to be done - shall we prone our cocked swords and bend over?

Look long enough in the library and you will find that just because it can be made doesn't mean it has been said. The action of a conscious response is your trump. Perhaps you were born to late to explore the earth, or too early to explore the galaxies. None the less, you were born in just the right and tight time to explore language. What can be said? What should be said?"