The play is nonsensical at first, the men saying impossible things. Talking about when the world was younger, how they had waited for millions of years, how life is full of the same miserable things over and over again. All they have is this appointment that seems to never come.

And I would argue that these two gentlemen are a good representation of The Emissary and The Hunter. 

And in many ways, that makes the player Godot.

And yet I also feel like the idea of Unity is almost a mockery of existentialism. Because the existentialists made reconciliatory arguments for the absurdity of life. In particular, they argued for how one must come to terms with the absurdity of life by some sort of spiritual realisation that they referred to as authenticity. That the ultimate source of our misery is self-deception. Jean-Paul Sartre argued that freedom is absolute. An idea he came up with when he was in a German concentration camp because of his communist views. A very interesting parallel to Sisyphus. Because the fascists would force inmates to perform meaningless labour as a method of psychological torture. To for instance dig trenches and then fill them up again. Believing that this would numb the creative impulses of the mind and ultimately make prisoners incapable of motivating themselves to escape.

And in this predicament, Sartre argued that even in the most tyrannical prison environment that his generation witnessed, he was still free. Because in the end, he could always kill himself. 

It sounds rather bleak, but it's hard to put a happy spin on life in a concentration camp. Rather, his point was that principally speaking, even though the fascists had tried to strip him of his humanity, his dignity, his free will, and his rights and recognition as a man, he could still control his own existence in the most fundamental way possible. 

He also said that you do not truly know yourself until you have been dispossessed of absolutely everything. Until you live in a vacuum wherein the only thing that's left to understand is indeed yourself. A kind of Cartesian reflection on the ontological nature of human identity and awareness. This is very contrasting with the continental view, particularly Freud, Hegel and Fanon, who argued that ontology is grounded not in being deprived of one's agency, but rather in the civilising influences of being observed by others. 

So one side argues that identity comes from self-awareness, and the other side argues that identity comes from self-consciousness. 

But what about when you are infinite variations of yourself? How do you identity yourself when you are an infinite number of people? When your whole existence is a delineation of every possible identity? And what's more, how do you live authentically when any statement you make about yourself will inevitably come true? 

We see how this creates a strange paradox. How immortality is both to exist in absolute abundance, and yet, in some metaphysical sense, to never exist at all. The Starborn dilute the self, and become stripped of their own experiences as they bleed into every experience and dissolve in a sea of memories that ultimately alienates the self from the many universes around them. 

And this is I think a very fascinating circularity, because in the end we are seeing a dialectical analysis of free will in and of itself, and I would argue that absolute free will is actually the worst prison of all. If you can do everything and desire nothing, then what motives do you have left? What is your driving force? To learn? You already know everything. To create? You've already imagined everything. To survive? You've already survived everything. 

From what I can tell, the only real human essence that can endure this scrutiny, that is in fact not a finite thing, is to love. And not just in the vulgar sense of the word, but rather in the theosophical sense. To understand why so many religious deities seem driven by love. Why they create a universe and life that is capable of being loved. To provide for them, and protect them, and nurture them. To see them thrive and proliferate and grow and exist. This I believe is the only truly inexhaustible motive that can keep someone from being crushed by the detachment and alienation of omnipotence. 

So perhaps Sartre was right in the end. To strip away all else does reveal an essence, and I think the only surviving essence is ultimately one of compassion, creation, love and nurturing. Because destruction and exploitation are inherently finite. Only creation and growth can expand beyond one's own limitations. Because in the end, even a God has limitations. Namely, that even a God is ultimately singular in quantity. Even an infinite existence cannot exist beyond itself. It can never be two, or three, or four. It is a tree without branches.