Scene: Heraclitus and his wife in a supermarket deciding on tomorrow's dinner.
He: Plotting is living. It is the driving force behind human consciousness, the advancement of the individual, the state, the world. How can we bear death without organizing life's events?
She: What is a life only of events?
He: Without a plan, empty chaos, undeserving of death's culmination.
She: Meanwhile, time flows and your plots are oars in the river. Friendship, love, enmity, it all drifts away from you before you see it.
He: The plots help us for when the time comes to square up against fate.
She: If you let it carry you, you could see more landscape.
He: We would get lost. When we fail, the challenge of structure is satisfying in itself.
She: You said it, we fail. What's the point of planning for failure?
He: Failure is certain. Life is uncertain. What's the point at all?
She: That's exactly it. None.
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