I am God

They’re all subjects to me. My subjects. And as I sit upon this throne of clouds just under the cubic, blazing sun, I can see all of them going about. It makes me think, you know? It makes me think that all of this has been planned by someone. This whole world looks artificial. Everything everyone does is in a set order: cut the tree, make the pickaxe, mine the rock, craft the armor, fight the zombie, repeat. And after a few hours they always dig deep down and get some obsidian and make a gate to Hell. Then after a few more hours they throw a blue-green sphere into the sky and follow it, and they dig deep down again and find themselves in a large stone dungeon. They arrange 9 spheres around a circle, then they jump in and arrive on the other side. They always slay the dragon.
It all seems systematic, organized, professional. At first I thought it was normal, then I saw the patterns. Few did things in another way than the majority of others. But in the grand scheme, everyone did the same things, albeit not always in the same order. My first idea was that they all were one person, one person controlling all these people at once. But it seemed to intricate, too elaborate. In the end, why would they do it? Why? Then I thought they were following someone, doing this all because someone told them to do it. I do not truly know what is going on or what is happening, when this will end or when it started. New things appear every few months or years, and within a few days after those things appear everyone stops to use them, examine them, build with them.
I have overheard some of their conversations, you see. And I seem to understand everything they say. I can see everything, hear everything, sense everything. I have heard them speaking, or have read their messages, and they all say things in such a way that you think they’re enjoying themselves. But I’ve been here so long. So long! So long that I can see through this sham! This all is a stage, and it appears the actors on the stage are enjoying themselves in such a way as one enjoys living. Nobody has yet figured out the greater purpose of this whole thing, but I don’t blame them. This is a puzzle that nobody has solved, and one that nobody will solve.
Are you even listening? Well, I hope you are. I can only hope, because there is nobody else up here. Nobody else to rant to, nobody else to speak to. At this time, I might as well be speaking to myself, but I can’t tell because it appears I am so omniscient and omnipresent that I prefer to focus on everything else other than me, my life and my living-space. In the very few and very far between times I do introspect about it all, I see myself sitting alone no. I am not alone! There is someone here listening to me! Isn’t there? Isn’t there? Because if there isn’t, I will feel a great pain, the pain of centuries, the pain of isolation. Dear listener, please listen. Please listen. I have lived so long, seen so much, seen tragedy, seen hope, seen pain, seen peace, seen grace, seen mercy, seen anarchy, seen injustice, seen humor, seen depression, seen dread, seen rage, seen lies, seen deceit, seen battle, seen purity, seen corruption, seen despair, seen trickery, seen life, seen death! I do not want to give in! I do not want to give in to insanity!
Listener, I do not know my place in this world. I do not know how I came to be, but I appeared. I just appeared. Nobody told me anything and nobody taught me anything. I just sat there, and I saw. I began seeing everything. I think I exist only to see, dear listener. I think I exist only to hear, only to sense. But I want to know what’s outside! What is outside this world? What is outside it? I need to know! I need to know! And I have lots of questions, dear listener- There is no listener! There is no listener! -there IS a listener! THERE IS NOT there IS! THERE IS! LISTENER, ARE YOU LISTENING? ARE YOU LISTENING? PLEASE LISTEN.
I am done seeing the world, dear listener. I want to see myself. I want to watch the Watcher. And I am now seeing myself. And I see a great black void. It is an indescribable mess of alphanumeric code, an amorphous mass of darkness and starry nothingness. Its shape changes every millisecond and it is engulfing the sky around me. Its movements are slow but careful, as if the mass is sentient. This, again, seems like part of the play that I am watching. Part of a script being executed, one half of it taking place in the world beneath me and the second half taking place up here, near my throne of clouds. The mass is getting bigger, listener.
Is it you? Is that mass you? It is permeating the environment in a calculated, strategized way as if it is one of the people I used to see down there, in the world beneath me. I rest my case, listener. The mass has converged into a point, and it is not expanding into the shape of a person who looks like he is from below. I rest my case. It is you. And you ask me:
”Are you God?”
What is God? I have heard it many times. It is perhaps an insult, because all these people use them in a way to express anger or confusion. This feels like the culmination of my life, this feels like everything I have been through has led up to this point. You see, observing these people is vastly different from meeting one of them in person. My mind darts to different things, to things completely different from this, and my wild brain synthesizes all these thoughts into three words:
”What is God?”
I wait for his answer. I wait impatiently, and I am hungry for the answer. My entire life has been leading up to this question, and I feel everything will be complete after I get its answer. This is because, I feel, my life has been incomplete because I never knew exactly who or what I was. I thought I existed only to see, to observe. I might be proven wrong. I might be given answers to everything. Please answer me, listener. Answer me. Answer me! What is God? Who is God? Please! Please!
”God can be said as the ruler of all,” you say. But I am not a ruler. Am I not God, then? Who am I? So many questions, so many answers needed. But you seem to want to go on. “God is the one who watches, the one who sees over everyone. He is the overseer.” I am the overseer. That explains it, then. I sit and watch. But I cannot be a ruler, because I cannot influence the actions of others. I cannot give anyone orders. In reality, now that I look at it, I have no power at all. In fact, it appears that I am the one with the least power out of them all, out of all of these other people from below. But now, please answer another question of mine, dear listener:
”Am I God?”
Please answer me. I need an answer. This is the ultimate question, and you are about to give me the ultimate answer. Forgive me for being unkind, dear listener, but please speed up. Each second is pain for me right now. Each second is as slow as a century. Each second drags on mercilessly, each minute is infinite, this state is unending. It feels like I am suffocating. I will not survive for longer without the answer. I am starving to death. Please answer. Please answer.
“I cannot say.”
AAAAAAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHHHH! YOU HAD THE POTENTIONAL, LISTENER! AND YOU WERE GIVEN SO MUCH TIME! SO MUCH TIME AND YOU CANNOT ANSWER? HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME? YOU CANNOT STOP ME, BECAUSE I AM GOD, YES! I AM GOD! I WATCH AND SILENTLY INFLUENCE EVERYONE’S ACTIONS! … I might not be God. I might not be God. I am sorry. I apologize for the outburst, although unsaid, dear listener. Wait… what do you want to say? Go on, say it. Say it, listener.
“I just want you to know…”
You are hesitating. What is it you want me to know? Do you look down towards me and let me know this piece of information as an act of mercy? So many questions, so little chance of getting an answer to each of them. And I feel like a celestial clock is ticking and you do not have much time left. It feels like I have to calculate each of my actions, as if each word matters.
”I just want you to know that this is not the real world, False-God.”
You called me False-God. False-God? Am I a half-God? And-
“If this isn’t, what is?”
It doesn’t feel like you’ll need too much time to answer this. You seem at the brink of answering it.
”Don’t you know of the real world outside of this one? This is an artificial world. There is a real world, but it is not this one.”
Oh, heavens. I already know I am not God (But am I?), but now it is set that I have no power. You said this is an artificial word, correct? Then please tell me how to reach the real world. How do you reach the real world? How?
”I must be going now.”
I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! There WAS A CELESTIAL CLOCK THAT WAS TICKING! AND IT WAS TICKING FAST! DO NOT GO! PLEASE DO NOT GO, DEAR LISTENER! I CANNOT EXIST WITHOUT ME! COME, WATCH THE PEOPLE WITH ME! COME!
“And… before I go… do you want to come to the real world?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” I don’t even think before saying it.
”I can bring you to a non-artificial world outside this one. It might be the real world, it might not. But you will be God there. You will exist as God, the Overseer.”
Send me there. Please send me there.
”Bring me.”
I see you collapse into the black, gooey mire again and converge into a point again before blinking into nothingness. Were you lying? Were you tricking me? I really want to escape this false world. I really do, dear listener. But you aren’t listening anymore, are you? You’re… wherever you are. You’re gone. But I want to be gone too. Send me there, listener. Were you lying? Were you lying? I hope you weren’t lying. And now I see part of me swirling around without my control and a spherical gate-like structure appearing out of nowhere. The gates are made of pure light and they look like the pearly gates of Heaven. Is this artificial world purgatory? Am I ascending to Haven?
As I touch the gates, I swirl around rapidly and emerge in a multicolored void, passing through it near the speed of light, seeing trillions of colors zoom past faster than I am going. It’s all so confusing and psychedelic, so familiar yet so distant. I do hope I awaken in a true world, one that is natural and one that I can watch and rule. And I know there will be a listener there. Well, I do not know, but I hope. Goodbye, listener, and I dearly hope I meet you in that true world.
THE END
 Written by LifeOfToast
Category:LifeOfToast