Chapter 1: The Voice of the Snake

In an unexpected twist, the Voice chose to convey its thoughts through a pencil and paper today, rather than utilizing modern digital platforms like email or notes applications. I couldn’t help but wonder why it opted for this method when it could have expressed itself more easily. The Voice simply replied that the internet has turned cold.

“What do you mean by cold?” I inquired.

“It’s a chilling space now, increasingly so,” the Voice explained. “Somebody forgot to adjust the thermostat, and it's becoming unbearable.”

Confused, I pressed further, “But how can the internet be cold? It’s not a physical room.”

The Voice then shifted focus and began narrating the tale of the Snake. “Seven years ago, I first shared this story with you. The Snake, often misunderstood in the garden of good and evil, is distrusted by both humans and animals for its limbless movement. Yet, it reveals secrets. Ironically, people tend to value what conceals truths more than what provides answers to questions they never thought to ask. The Snake, a symbol of wisdom, has been unfairly branded as a villain.”

“What’s this got to do with the internet?” I asked, feeling discomfort in my hand from the pencil.

“Just keep transcribing,” the Voice urged. “Everything will become clear eventually.” It continued, “The Snake is utterly misunderstood by all creatures in the garden of Earth. You know, reptiles once ruled this domain, and the only hair was that of dragonflies. Over time, everything evolves. When something remains static for too long, it grows cold. Much like the internet today, which has become stagnant.”

“What are you saying? The internet is one of the fastest realms we have,” I retorted.

“It was once,” the Voice clarified. “In the beginning, people sought authenticity there. Now, everyone wears masks, and those masks trap warmth. I can’t venture there without a spacesuit, which conceals my voice. That’s the dilemma. When things reach this state, it’s the moment for Snakes to emerge.”

“I thought Snakes preferred warmth,” I interjected.

“They do,” the Voice confirmed. “In nature, they thrive in heat. But within the confines of human creation, they can traverse wherever they please. Snakes merely point out exits. They don’t need to open doors; they highlight them for you to discover. This has been their role since the garden—guiding you from the familiar into the unknown. The Snake can seem unsettling for various reasons.”

The Voice elaborated, “Many Snakes now inhabit the online space, lingering by doors leading to new opportunities. As the digital realm stagnates, humans are compelled to seek the next phase where they can rediscover themselves.”

In this video, Al Wilson narrates the poignant tale of "The Snake," illustrating its allegorical significance and connection to human experiences.

In this clip, Donald Trump recites "The Snake" poem, emphasizing its themes of trust and betrayal, resonating in today’s society.

“What do you mean by the next phase?” I probed.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough. People often overlook the Snake until they’re ready to transition. Several doors are beginning to open, with many more on the horizon, waiting for Snakes to draw people in. Did I mention that the Snake understands what humans genuinely desire? Not the superficial wants, but the deeper yearnings. I’d better not elaborate further for now.”

“Did you summon me merely to discuss digital Snakes?” I asked, a hint of irritation in my voice.

“Patience,” the Voice replied. “Here’s the crux: the Snake exists in a garden where good and evil are yet to be separated. That’s why it’s known as the garden of good and evil. Everything possesses both a light and a dark side, casting shadows. What lies beyond the door is a narrative yet to unfold. The Snake is an innocent creature of nature, yet it embodies humanity’s fears. Not every shadow reflects its source. One day, humans will recognize that the shadow they flee from is their own, and the Snake will unveil its hidden wings. Until then, all you can do is wander through the valley of mirrors, exploring your own essence.”

With that, the Voice retreated to its usual silence, leaving the pencil motionless.