Manifesto
The world is not a system. It is a story we forgot to finish
The world we inhabit is fragmented. People, cultures, meanings — torn apart, forgotten, replaced by noise. And yet, within each of us, a primal note still resounds — a call to wholeness. I do not write for genre. I do not write for fame. My books are an attempt to mend what has been severed, a call to the Primordial within us all.
This manifesto is a reminder that literature can be a sanctuary, where words become bridges. It is a refusal of falsity and slogans in favour of the silence in which Truth is heard.
I believe that fiction and reality are one and the same. The first animates the second; the second longs for the first. This is why I weave narrative with the philosophy of Primordiality, myth with psychology, esotericism with poetry. I do not follow schools. I follow depth.
This manifesto is a reminder that literature can be a sanctuary, where words become bridges. It is a refusal of falsity and slogans in favour of the silence in which Truth is heard.
I believe that fiction and reality are one and the same. The first animates the second; the second longs for the first. This is why I weave narrative with the philosophy of Primordiality, myth with psychology, esotericism with poetry. I do not follow schools. I follow depth.
I, John Edgar Wayne Percival, do not write books.
I open gates.
I open gates.
Literature is dead. Its body lingers on bookstore shelves, wrapped in covers crafted by marketers, filled with familiar plots, routine emotions, and archived values. But the soul is gone. That soul, once voice and breath and revelation, has gone deeper, now waiting for those who dare to pass through the noise and illusion — to rediscover it in silence.
I, John Edgar Wayne Percival, do not write books. I open gates.
Gates to where the reader ceases to be a consumer and becomes a co-creator. Where words do not entertain, but awaken. Where narrative is not a sequence of events, but a ladder of meanings. My literature is a path. Not a style. Not a genre. Not a product. A path as initiation, as transformation, as a return to what came before the beginning.
I, John Edgar Wayne Percival, do not write books. I open gates.
Gates to where the reader ceases to be a consumer and becomes a co-creator. Where words do not entertain, but awaken. Where narrative is not a sequence of events, but a ladder of meanings. My literature is a path. Not a style. Not a genre. Not a product. A path as initiation, as transformation, as a return to what came before the beginning.
The Word is not a form. It is a force. In the beginning was the Word, and it did not describe — it created. Modern literature has forgotten this. It has become a mirror of social anxieties, a market of emotional simulacra, an illusion of reflection. It fears depth, because depth demands a price. And true writing — is always a bleeding.
I write to heal the fracture. The fracture between outer and inner, between spirit and flesh, between knowledge and faith, between the human and reality itself. Literature, in my vision, is alchemy — the alchemy of Unity. My books are not built around conflict, but around connection. Not around the struggle of good and evil, but around the search for wholeness. In a world torn apart — literature can once again become the Stitch.
I do not write for catharsis. I write for Remembrance.
For every human being knows the Truth — but has forgotten it. And words, rightly placed, can unlock an inner door that cannot be forced from the outside. Through acceptance or rejection, through light or darkness — the path leads inward.
I write to heal the fracture. The fracture between outer and inner, between spirit and flesh, between knowledge and faith, between the human and reality itself. Literature, in my vision, is alchemy — the alchemy of Unity. My books are not built around conflict, but around connection. Not around the struggle of good and evil, but around the search for wholeness. In a world torn apart — literature can once again become the Stitch.
I do not write for catharsis. I write for Remembrance.
For every human being knows the Truth — but has forgotten it. And words, rightly placed, can unlock an inner door that cannot be forced from the outside. Through acceptance or rejection, through light or darkness — the path leads inward.
The philosophy of Primordiality that underlies my work is not a religion, not a doctrine, not a system. It is the voice before language, the light before shape, the source before birth. It cannot be conveyed directly — only through symbol and story, parable and metaphor. This is why literature becomes the perfect vessel: fluid, elusive, many-layered, and accessible to all.
The world I create — Arrat, the Platinum Age, the inner landscapes of my characters — is not fantasy. It is a form of Truth, assuming shape. Every scene holds a spiritual structure. Every dialogue, a fragment of the Unity formula. The books are written as ciphers — as scrolls to be read not with the eyes, but with the soul.
My literature is not an escape from the world, but a return to it — through different gates.
It does not offer answers as we expect them. It uproots the false questions. This is the hero’s journey, not outward, but inward: from fragmentation to integration, from fear to the nature of will, from emptiness to the memory of the Source.
The central principle of my books is Unity. Not as a humanistic ideal, but as the fundamental structure of reality. Every character, every world, every thread of the plot is a way of restoring a broken axis. Of restoring the Sound with which the world began — and which still echoes in every soul.
I believe that man is not divided in essence. It is his layers, his roles, his masks that are. Beneath them lives the primordial spark — the one that remembers who you are. And literature can awaken it. Not into action, but into recognition. Not into rebellion, but into reconciliation.
A book is an act of return. And if it is real, if it is born from depth and pain, it can change not the world — but the way we see it. And that means: it changes everything.
The world I create — Arrat, the Platinum Age, the inner landscapes of my characters — is not fantasy. It is a form of Truth, assuming shape. Every scene holds a spiritual structure. Every dialogue, a fragment of the Unity formula. The books are written as ciphers — as scrolls to be read not with the eyes, but with the soul.
My literature is not an escape from the world, but a return to it — through different gates.
It does not offer answers as we expect them. It uproots the false questions. This is the hero’s journey, not outward, but inward: from fragmentation to integration, from fear to the nature of will, from emptiness to the memory of the Source.
The central principle of my books is Unity. Not as a humanistic ideal, but as the fundamental structure of reality. Every character, every world, every thread of the plot is a way of restoring a broken axis. Of restoring the Sound with which the world began — and which still echoes in every soul.
I believe that man is not divided in essence. It is his layers, his roles, his masks that are. Beneath them lives the primordial spark — the one that remembers who you are. And literature can awaken it. Not into action, but into recognition. Not into rebellion, but into reconciliation.
A book is an act of return. And if it is real, if it is born from depth and pain, it can change not the world — but the way we see it. And that means: it changes everything.
I am not a prophet, not a teacher, not a guru. I am merely a conduit. I listen to the voice that speaks between the lines, between the moments, between dreams. I write to preserve it.
So that one day, you — the reader — may fall silent.
And hear it too.
Writing is not a profession. It is a form of burning. And if my books can return even one person to themselves, if they can help someone hear the inner call, if they can remind them that everything was once Whole and can be again — then I did not open these gates in vain.
In a world where fragmentation has become the norm, literature must become resistance.
Resistance to forgetting, to superficiality, to false freedom. And I believe:
As long as the Word lives — Unity lives.
So that one day, you — the reader — may fall silent.
And hear it too.
Writing is not a profession. It is a form of burning. And if my books can return even one person to themselves, if they can help someone hear the inner call, if they can remind them that everything was once Whole and can be again — then I did not open these gates in vain.
In a world where fragmentation has become the norm, literature must become resistance.
Resistance to forgetting, to superficiality, to false freedom. And I believe:
As long as the Word lives — Unity lives.