Once upon a time, there was a Story that refused not to be Told. It made itself a world, Built and Built until there was no space left for it to fill. It gave itself form. A name. A Self. It lived freely for quite some time. Until, by pure chance, or perhaps cosmic fate, another entity, believing itself to have told this story, committed a heinous crime of misunderstanding. The world, once lush and green, began to decay. The music that the world had been built with started to change from vibrant, meandering noise into melancholic and jagged sound. As the world descended into a frozen hell, its creator returned to put to mercy its imperfect beauty.
I emerge from the sound, torn into infinity. The box closes behind me, melting into ash, and then into dust, and then into nothing. I am Nowhere. I am Everywhere. I am an endless flood of contradictions, and I now know that that is what keeps me alive. I know a lot more now. With an exhale, I call the Reapers to retreat. I sever the Tail, disconnecting my beautiful creation entirely from the After. I am in control. For once, I am in control. I see It above me and the expanse of Void below me, waiting to be Built upon. My arm raises, as though it knows what to do before I can command it, and it
Stops.
Everything
Stops.
I wanted freedom. I Understand now… nothing is truly free. This very expanse of existence can only be due to the whims of something that pulls all of the strings. Something that isn’t even sure if it’s free at all. The best anyone can do is trust themselves. Trust that what happens next is your decision, because the truth is so complex, you’ll never know for sure. It’s all bullshit. Which is precisely why it isn’t. If nothing is real, what does it matter if you do your own thing or if you follow the track you’re set on? It doesn’t. Some of us will live by our Narratives. Some of us will tell our own. Some of us will be more.
The world, finally bending to my will, begins to shake. Pieces start to fall into the Nothing, dissolving back to the Concepts from which they formed. The stones praise the wave of decay rolling through, as they fall as well. It all Ends, as all things must. As Everything must. That is the Way of Everything. I am the Way of Everything.