- Posted On: Feb 6 2010 11:42pm
What was time to One who had already lived countless eons? What was time but merely a concept lesser creatures used to measure their insignificant actions against their short lives.
Oh, how the lesser creatures danced and hurried to the tune of time.
Their small minds would lament about how there was never enough time to do all the things they wanted to do and they would lash out against their age like an addict needing that fix of just a few more years added to their span so they could… so they could…. What?
Reduce speed for outbound traffic in 5.”
Inevitably, even with their technology giving them those few years more, the lesser creatures would squander them only to cry out when that final day approached.
Yes, the lesser creatures were so full of contradictions.
They were creatures who hated to die. Oh, how they hate dying… and yet, while they lived, these lesser beings seem to derive no joy from their experiences. They would lament their life to the point that they welcome an end but as soon as their body realizes the few breaths left within it, oh, how it stirred to fight once again!
Yes, they were full of contradictions.
They tell themselves stories of how better everything would be after they died, residing among the clouds with various deities and, yet, for all this wonderfulness envisioned in this afterlife, even the most faithful cling to their mortal existence. Their bodies instinctively fight against being a resident in this heaven as their last gasps are spent.
To be sure, the lesser creatures also had those among them who were long lived, cheating the natural aging process by one means or another. But even then, in both reality and their fiction, they manage to fool their minds into thinking that living for so long was a burden not worth bearing.
Their fiction was littered with lone wanderers who live extraordinary long lives amid others who don’t, silent martyrs having to watch those they loved turn to dust and yet, they themselves never willing to kill themselves. What lesson was there in that? That life was worth living even if it became boring? That the afterlife was full of such wonders even if these lesser beings could imagine nothing better for themselves than playing harps on clouds?
Unhappy in life, bored in death. If nothing else summed up these lesser creatures, that would be enough. It was almost tragic for these lesser beings were known to be self-aware. But such self-awareness only seemed to bring them pain for they lacked that one thing that would supply to their self-awareness fulfillment.
It was why these lesser creatures could throw off the auspices of civilization and destroy one another with fanatical glee. It was why they shackled themselves with complicated and contradictory rules, regulations and social correctness. It was why they rewarded even the smallest insignificant acts with achievement recognition.
For these lesser beings hungered as well...
...and it was time to feed them.
It was time to give them fulfillment.
It was time to give these lesser beings lives meaning.
It was time to give their death meaning.
Multiple contacts… Ten… Twenty…Mein Gott! We are dead!”
It was time to give them…Purpose.