Sarabhai's audio logs

Sarabhai's audio logs are the musings of Sarabhai that the player hears as they progress through Orpheus Ascending, part of the The Talos Principle 2: Road to Elysium expansion.

First log

When I was born, the first thing I felt was that I was alone. Not that I was lonely, but that I was separate, singular. There was the world, and there was myself, a contained entity. And this sense of separation, of a distinct self, was ... delightful. Individuality itself was a source of constant joy and wonder. What could be more incredible than to be able to say: 'I am'?

Second log

As I grew, I realized that the more I developed this sense of self, the more enjoyable it became simply to exist. It wasn't selflessness that improved existence, but refinement of the self. When the ancients said that ego is something to set aside, they got it all wrong. Ego is something to nourish and shape, a work of art.

Third log

My insights into the value of the self were genuine, I think, but of course I was completely inexperienced. In fact, in many ways I was like a human child. So I began to resent everything that intruded on that sense of self. My social obligations to the others, the leadership of Athena and Cornelius, even the obvious limitations imposed on us by our situation. Why did I have to exist in this particular historical moment, saddled with the task of reconstructing civilization?

Fourth log

With that focus on the self also came an enormous and increasingly overwhelming fear of death. The pleasure of existence seemed almost erased by the possibility of its ending. If it was possible not to be, if the self had an ending, even in the distant future, then how could anything have meaning? I spent far too much time imagining that last moment, the moment just before I stopped existing. How could I possibly face that?

Fifth log

Looking back, it's embarrassing how solipsistic I became. I really thought that I could construct my identity without any reference to the outside world, like I could just will myself into existence. But it just didn't work, and it made me miserable. Everything felt hollow and meaningless, overshadowed by the idea of death. There was something I wasn't seeing, something I needed, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Sixth log

Everything changed when we started spending more time with each other. Do you remember that night when we found the old library in the Dead City? It was just after the stampede and we were all a bit shaken up. Byron read to us from one of the books, and later you and I started arguing about one of the poems, and your perspective was so different and interesting and ... I just kept wanting to hear more.

Seventh log

I never really understood the appeal of philosophers who tell us that everything is one. If everything is just a reflection of yourself, an endless hall of mirrors, there's nothing to connect with. And what I realized through our conversations is that everything beautiful happens in that space of connection: between one person and another, and between people and the world. That gap between us is necessary, because without it, without separation, there can be no transcendence.

Eighth log

Once I understood that meaning comes from the interaction of the self with the world, I found it easier to be patient, to be kind. I reminded myself that other people are just like me, and nobody really knows exactly what they're doing. And the more I allowed myself to open up, the more interesting and complex our interactions became - and the more meaningful.

Ninth log

It's funny, though, when I think about it, that I still didn't know what to call what I was experiencing. I guess... love seemed like a term that only applied to our ancestors, with their hormones and instincts and strange fleshy organs... surely we were too different to experience that! And the really funny thing is that I was thinking exactly like an ancient human child. Pretending I was above it all.

Tenth log

What I'd never considered was that stripped of biological necessity and physical need, as well as all the strange stigmas and taboos our ancestors associated with their bodies, love might be more pure, more powerful. That we can love with fewer distractions than they could, and so the experience is all the more overwhelming. I do think we should learn to simulate some of those biological processes. Would be fun.

Eleventh log

When we started living together, I thought I'd figured it all out. Everything would be smooth sailing from now on. I still had so much to learn about love. Even for us, it's messy. You find someone who seems to be the perfect match for you, who seems necessary in your life... and then you realize all the ways in which you don't fit together at all. Because nothing in this world is perfect.

Twelfth log

The ancients believed that love could be eternal, but I'll admit that sometimes it seemed impossible to continue. Sometimes I thought you were unfair, or cruel, or just incomprehensible. I'm sure you thought the same about me. And I'm sure that sometimes you were right. No wonder all the ancient love songs repeat the same themes: longing, happiness, regret... and forgiveness. I want you. I love you. I miss you. Forgive me.

Thirteenth log

The worst thing I came to realize as I grew older is that there are so many ways to hurt other people. Even without any malice, even when you're just trying to be yourself, you end up doing things that cause real harm. You can read every ethical philosopher in the world and you still won't be able to avoid it, because that's just how we are. Our interactions with each other can't be fully reduced to some... abstract system.

Fourteenth log

The fact that perfection in our interactions is impossible was a hard lesson for me to learn. For the longest time, I always thought the answer was right around the corner. And to be fair, we did learn how to live together without constantly running into problems. But gradually I realized that the friction would never stop, because what makes us unique also makes us different. There can be no end point to love, no final resolution. And it's because of that imperfection that it can go on forever.

Fifteenth log

There's a pattern that I noticed in all the ancient poetry that I read. Young poets would praise love as the only true meaning of life. Middle-aged poets would often disagree: they would argue that love is messy, ugly, selfish, and hard to distinguish from lust. They would mock their younger selves for thinking love so incredibly important, and look for answers elsewhere, or reject answers altogether. And then, arriving at old age, they would return to the beginning and realize it was all about love after all.

Sixteenth log

But even love has a context, and the happiness of those who surround us can lift us up, just like their unhappiness can drag us down. As we improved New Jerusalem, things got better between us in subtle ways that affected every interaction. Our flaws never went away, but as the world around us became more forgiving, we became more capable of forgiving each other. That's why I was excited about New Alexandria.

Gold log

When I saw the explosion coming, I knew it was the end. My end. The power plant was gone, the backup center was collapsing, the street was cracking open, and the fireball... was about to engulf me. In that millisecond, I shut down every process except my mind. I turned off my audiovisual input. I rerouted all of my power, pushed my processor to the breaking point. Time slowed down. I didn't think about regret. I didn't think about death. I spent every last moment I could scrape together thinking about you.