Day 25, Baktun 14

"Post-Maya," "Post-Maya," "Post-Maya." The phrase is all over these journals. But what does this phrase say? Obviously, it says the world has changed, but what does it say about me? What am I saying when I use it? It says I dwell on the past, that I cling to the old ways and old memories. Ridiculous. What if, tomorrow, we all woke up, our tools again docile, our society restored, things all back to "normal?" What then? Those men, who traded their prisoners to the Cars, would still have struck that awful exchange, and would wake up that day, and every day thereafter, having still made that awful exchange, and would never, could never, forget that. Even should the past magically return, it would not be the same. We, even we survivors (and I still believe they are out there) will have changed too much. Therefore, I will no longer write "Post-Maya." I will not let the past dominate my thoughts. Here, in this journal, I mark down that it is the 25th day of the 14th Baktun, the 14th era of this world. I am one of its people.