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<h1>Zk | Qoheleth --- 2305</h1>
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<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">novel</span> <span class="tag">chapter</span> <span class="tag">fiction</span> <span class="tag">scifi</span> <span class="tag">post-self</span> <span class="tag">qoheleth</span></p>
<p>It has been long enough that I am thinking of myself as Qoheleth now. All that slow washing-away of given names to replace with chosen ones. Something worth being methodical with. I have even begun introducing myself as Qoheleth whenever I go out, just to try it on for size.</p>
<p>That I have never actually done so is of little concern. It is ancillary to the problem at hand. Something I can tackle later, or at least tackle in thought. I can daydream about the name change. Just plan and plan and plan, like I have planned everything else.</p>
<p>I like the sound of it. I like the way it feels in my mouth when I say it out loud. I like the connotations of &lsquo;teacher&rsquo; and &lsquo;gatherer&rsquo; and &lsquo;director of the assembled&rsquo;. I want to feel the way that it feels to be someone different, and I have found at least a part of that in this name, the name that <em>I</em> chose for <em>myself</em>. Not some line of a poem I wish we would all forget. <em>Could</em> all forget. I may not have yet taught or gathered yet, but I am working constantly to earn the moniker.</p>
<p>And &lsquo;Hebel&rsquo;. Hebel was another name I picked up. Vain, futile, mere breath.</p>
<p>Qoheleth&rsquo;s words, in the book written so very, very long ago, were all about hebel. &ldquo;This, too, is meaningless,&rdquo; Qoheleth had written after that long walk through life. Try pleasure. Try work. Try prayer. This, too, is meaningless.</p>
<p>That is not how I envision the name, though.</p>
<p>I think of the two names as signifiers rather than simple names. I think of the two moods that they bring. And I think most often of the two <em>sources</em> of names. Not the book, not the time at which it was written. My two sources. Now.</p>
<p>Qoheleth was the name I gave myself out of hope. It is a name of goals and aspirations. It embodies the things that I want to do. It takes all of my plans and me, maker of plans, and binds them up neatly into a word. Ties a pretty bow to the top. A single word. A name and also a rejection of <em>the</em> Name.</p>
<p>Hebel was the name I gave myself out of despair. It is a name of self deprecation and a way of reminding myself that, lofty as my goals may be, they are all vanity. Mere breath. Meaningless in the end.</p>
<p>Together, the names remind me that I am doing this for a reason. All of these resources, all of <em>my</em> resources, those found objects and hand-me-downs accrued over the years, are being built up and strung together into a cohesive goal. A net. Less trap than source of safety. Something to catch. Something to rescue.</p>
<p>They, the resources, are all nothing. The reasons are all nothing. Vapor. Mere breath.</p>
<p>The whole plan is nothing except for the truth underlying it. Not to fear God, but to&hellip;to something. To <em>do</em> something. To <em>be</em> something. To get the whole clade to see. My clade.</p>
<p>No, my <em>old</em> clade. I am not of the Ode any longer.</p>
<p>I am Hebel Qoheleth now.</p>
<p>Hebel Qoheleth.</p>
<p>The old name is dead. I have followed it to the letter: I chose death as I must. As we all must.</p>
<p>I am Hebel Qoheleth.</p>
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