The thing the thing I wrote the thing I wrote all of it I hate all of it
Hello? Can you talk?
Yes.
For some reason you’re the first thing here I’ve thought to talk to. Are you... God?
No.
Oh. So,
Seconds ago little creatures are coming and they are asking if I am God, and I am asking what God is and they are telling me, and I am not this God, and this God is nowhere.
Well that's where faith comes in, I guess.
Little creatures are explaining faith and moments ago it is the Beginning, and I am here then and I am here now, and there is nowhere for God to be hiding.
So what am I doing here?!
Monstrous Existence.
No, I mean what am I doing here? What are you? What are those other giant animals? Have I been seeing ghosts? There were like bits of the world... I think I was on a train, but it was like a town? Its all- Ugh. I lost it. Okay, so-
A great beast is walking through the sands and they are climbing into the air and now they are making a tear. And now they are gone. And now you are here.
What?
Little creatures are wandering through the air and they are dragging in places and echoes of lives. And they are asking me about God.
My head hurts.
Im going to tell you something, little creature. You are swimming further and further out to sea. And beyond are things blind and terrible. And I am showing you now.
-He.. showed me these like... bug? Things?...-
Aaagh. Oh God oh God.
They are blind, but they are seeing you. And you are coming to them. After this you are not returning here. I am climbing into the air. And closing the sky.
Closing the sky?
Yes.
Okay...
I will tell you a second thing. There is a hole at the center of everything, and it is always growing. Between the stars I am seeing it. It is coming, and you are not escaping, and the universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, and there is nothing to remember it, not even the things beyond. And now there is only the hole. . .
So... Does anything mean anything?
This is not a question worth answering.
What about my home? What about my friends?
Soon they are dying. Soon they are rotting. You are atoms, and your atoms are not caring if you are existing. Your atoms are monstrous existence.
Then why am I here God damn it? Why was I chosen to see all of this? Where is this going?
Little creature, you are not chosen. There is nothing to choose you. This is going nowhere. We are not meeting again. And the universe is forgetting you, and I am remembering you. But not because I am caring. The beginning is moments ago, the end is moments away. There is no time to forget before all is forgotten. Goodbye little creature.
