April 2018

“I’m reaching equilibrium without them, ya know … the Pseudo-Gods.”

“Equilibrium was always best reached alone.”

“My heart doesn’t even hurt enough anymore to cry out that this isn’t fair.”

“Hence, your state. Your peace. Your space.”

“That’s how it all started, ya know.”



“How so?”

“I was alone in an abyss. Floating in something, because we all know by now that ‘Nothing is Something.’ I suppose the outerbanks of the Universe as we know it. I was a pair of eyes, looking into dark, deep space, where galaxies of other eyes materialized, exponentially. But they didn’t come into existence until I met the gaze of what I created to be my reflection … the image of a man who has no name, as of now. Others … the others, like to call Him God.”

“So, are you saying that you created this ‘God’ in your image?”

“Yes, or so it was told.”

“By whom?”

“God. A long time ago, three years maybe. As we lay in bed, crying at the ceiling we only knew how to break in dreams. I was alone, but beside him, floating on euphoria that burnt white around us like a halo.”

“What happened to you two?”

“I gave free will to my reflection and He chose to look away.”

“So what of the other galaxies?”

“He created another in His image and that One created One in their own image, so on and so forth until balance was achieved and the simplest of forms among us could see back to the beginning, coming full circle. Do you see the pattern now? What I’m trying to say is that,” …

“God is your Son and You are His Mother. Then if you are the Mother, who is the Father?”


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