I wrote this and only I am going to read this !


  • You were on your way home when you died.

    It was a car accident. Nothing particularly
    remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a
    wife and two children. It was a painless death. The
    EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail.
    Your body was so utterly shattered you were
    better off, trust me.

    And that's when you met me.

    "What ... what happened?" You asked. "Where am
    I?"
    "You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point in
    mincing words.

    "There was a ... a truck and it was skidding ... "

    "Yup," I said.

    "I ... I died?"

    "Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies," I
    said.

    You looked around. There was nothingness. Just
    you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is
    this the afterlife?"

    "More or less," I said.

    "Are you god?" You asked.

    "Yup," I replied. "I'm God."

    "My kids ... my wife," you said.

    "What about them?"

    "Will they be all right?"

    "That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died
    and your main concern is for your family. That's
    good stuff right there."

    You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't
    look like God. I just looked like some man. Or
    possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure,
    maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the
    almighty.

    "Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will
    remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't
    have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will
    cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To
    be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any
    consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling
    relieved .

    "Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to
    heaven or hell or something?"

    "Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."
    "Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right,"

    "All religions are right in their own way," I said.
    "Walk with me."

    You followed along as we strode through the void.
    "Where are we going?"

    "Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to
    walk while we talk."

    "So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I
    get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby.
    So all my experiences and everything I did in this
    life won't matter."

    "Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the
    knowledge and experiences of all your past lives.
    You just don't remember them right now."

    I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders.
    "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and
    gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human
    mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you
    are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water
    to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of
    yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back
    out, you've gained all the experiences it had.

    "You've been in a human for the last 48 years, so
    you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of
    your immense consciousness. If we hung out here
    for long enough, you'd start remembering
    everything. But there's no point to doing that
    between each life."

    "How many times have I been reincarnated, then?"

    "Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different
    lives." I said. "This time around, you'll be a Chinese
    peasant girl in 540 AD."

    "Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me
    back in time?"

    "Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it,
    only exists in your universe. Things are different
    where I come from."

    "Where you come from?" You said.
    "On sure," I explained "I come from somewhere.
    Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I
    know you'll want to know what it's like there, but
    honestly you wouldn't understand."

    "Oh," you said, a little let down. "But wait. If I get
    reincarnated to other places in time, I could have
    interacted with myself at some point."

    "Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives
    only aware of their own lifespan you don't even
    know it's happening."

    "So what's the point of it all?"

    "Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me
    for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little
    stereotypical?"

    "Well it's a reasonable question," you persisted.

    I looked you in the eye. "The meaning of life, the
    reason I made this whole universe, is for you to
    mature."

    "You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"

    "No, just you. I made this whole universe for you.
    With each new life you grow and mature and
    become a larger and greater intellect."

    "Just me? What about everyone else?"

    "There is no one else," I said. "In this universe,
    there's just you and me."

    You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on
    earth ... "

    "All you. Different incarnations of you."

    "Wait. I'm everyone !? "

    "Now you're getting it," I said, with a
    congratulatory slap on the back.

    "I'm every human being who ever lived?"

    "Or who will ever live, yes."

    "I'm Abraham Lincoln?"

    "I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.

    "And you're the millions he killed."

    "I'm Jesus?"

    "And you're everyone who followed him."

    You fell silent.

    "Every time you victimized someone," I said, "you
    were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness
    you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy
    and sad moment ever experienced by any human
    was, or will be, experienced by you."

    You thought for a long time.

    "Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"

    "Because someday, you will become like me.
    Because that's what you are. You're one of my
    kind. You're my child."

    "Whoa," you said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a
    god?”

    "No. Not yet. You're a fetus. You're still growing.
    Once you've lived every human life throughout all
    time, you will have grown enough to be born."

    "So the whole universe," you said, "it's just ... "

    "An egg." I answered. "Now it's time for you to
    move on to your next life."

    And I sent you on your way.

    source


  • an interesting way to bypass selfishness, if you want me to have something kind to say
    this isn't art though


  • @linear said in I wrote this and only I am going to read this !:

    an interesting way to bypass selfishness, if you want me to have something kind to say
    this isn't art though

    life is still a mystery, so it's better to think it has only one source. thus we all are same. this post really grab my attention and make me wonder of this possibility. thanks for reading.


  • Its what I have been saying Ash, it is one source, but it may be possible that also matter that isn't alive by it self, came from same place as life.
    Basically it would mean that matter isn't necessity to life it self but simply a way to be observable as dimensional plane , something that life defines it self accordingly with.

    Other possible outcome would be that first came matter, then as a willing partaking in continuity of "time" life started consuming resources as a way to turn it into a more profound expression . since complexity is something that continuously grows .

    Its really hard to say what is life, from a perspective where we are aware just so much to what we thrives along side of, for example sun, and not aware how much other stars effect life's existence and moment where expression of one self takes place.
    .Day and Night cycle? Or would you find it more correct that there is much more that dictates when something is in wakeful state or state of rest.

    I will probably read up on the post you made, but just from what Lin said I am assuming that I'm not too much off topic
    Don't jump to the conclusions when it comes to how complex things came to be.

    So my little brainiac , be firm in the decision to have more alongside yourself, to have more things that describe your personhood , and grow to reach that point , grow and nurture from what makes you feel most alive right now, our home planet, then trough continuity you should be able to perceive more of those pillars that life builds it self upon.

    P,S,.
    I'd love to have any one self read this, and then correct some of the statements, like for example , word work, don't work on yourself, grow alongside , from personal place of being.