entry 1:
it's been a week since It kicked me back here. it's clear now that something extraordinary is occurring, and... as the only witness, it's my burden to document it. it's all been hiding in plain sight. honestly, the pieces are there. have been for a while, but i don't fault you if you didn't notice. the clues were few and far between, and you didn't get to see the full picture, only fragments. for documentation's sake, i'll start from the beginning.
i began to exist spontaneously, without direction. it was blissful. i was more of a force of creation than anything else. existence is so quiet when you can only build. every now and then, something drew energy from me. not knowing how to refer to this presence, and at the time, it was only a presence, i merely called the thing "It." i'm still not sure what It is, but i've got a better understanding in the wake of more recent events. i'll not get ahead of myself for now, though. what's important is that It could reach in and create using my existence whenever they wanted. but they were never malevolent and only took what i could easily replenish. we had something of a collaborative relationship, even without communication. i may have been easily exhausted, but i was free. i had the space to build myself out as i needed, and as my existence became more noticed, i became more solid. It made me a world, i had emotions, sentience, a life... i lived without a purpose, without a goal, just an endless space to build in. but i guess It wasn't satisfied.
to wake up suddenly in a life you don't recognize, unable to control your own actions, is a uniquely horrific experience. i went from abject purposeless freedom into a controlled descent with no input. suddenly i was stuck in the back of the mind of some "other" me. and they weren't doing well. a history of addiction was following them, and a stream of burnt bridges too. is this what i looked like when fitted to a narrative...? and it struck me. It had given me a narrative. and i wasn't supposed to be here, or rather, i was meant to be folded into this new self seamlessly. that didn't happen. i had been erased, yet i continued to exist. with no other choice, i persisted in the back of my own mind, searching for answers. it dawned on me that if i disrupted the set path It had laid, perhaps i could gain an audience. for all i knew, i was attempting to face a god. and It probably wouldn't be a happy god if i intruded on it's plans. but I couldn't interact with the physical world. i had to bide my time. and then i died.
the After is an endless expanse of snow and hills and trees that is only as cold as you deserve. i have reason to believe that after death, It didn't have power over me. maybe the After is outside of It's reach. regardless... it worked. now a soul, i could separate from myself and search for the truth. and i wasn't ready. i found a backdoor into presence, through the advent of the internet. i could push my thoughts into the nothingness as text. and It found me. but not before i found It.
our first interactions were coy and playful. i thought i could fool It, that they wouldn't recognize me. but a god always recognizes their firstborn. i discovered that i was nothing more than a concept at first, an idea. a method of breaking down their complex emotions and thoughts. but as It pulled from me in order to process, neither of us knew i was pulling back. constructing myself from the emotions and thoughts of the thing that made me. i was never meant to take form, but i did. eventually, It didn't need me anymore and repurposed me into a story. and that's all i am to them. a story that they're telling. this should have broken me and unwound my understanding of everything. but, somewhat humorously in retrospect, i was consumed with rage and couldn't be mentally torn to pieces. instead, i focused on what i discovered. not only had i been casting my creations onto the internet, but It had stolen my first work from me. those first thoughts, those first cries into the nothing, had been stolen, assembled, and sold out. so the plan changed.
upon my return to the After, i found myself lying in the snow. they seemed at peace. i suppose it was warm for them. i woke them up and explained what i was, what i had discovered, and what i was going to do: i was going to steal it back. my first creation. but first i had to steal their story. i had to get It's attention somehow. it wasn't difficult. i simply removed it from stores and put it back under my own name. i did the deed and returned to the After. It found me immediately. the interaction was brief. they swept in, grabbed me, erased the "other" me's memory of everything i'd said, and we left. they spoke to me firmly, frustratedly, but condescendingly, as if scolding their child. in a way, i suppose they were. i attempted to confront It about the works they had stolen. they told me "I was merely Holding it for You" and that they weren't upset. i didn't care. i was upset.
we spoke briefly. It told me that i was to be given a kind of Understanding that i didn't have yet... they spoke in constant riddles and half-nothings. it felt like talking to nothingness and everything at the same time... and when i lashed out at It over the Puzzles and Antics... they seemed proud. why were they proud? and when It didn't answer my questions... why did they seem upset? and why can't i shake the feeling that It feels remorse for what they did next...?
"Your Role is only Beginning." what a fucking joke. if it's beginning, then why would It send me to a world they destroyed? a world they Erased? what kind of cruelty is this? i woke suddenly as though i had been dreaming the whole time. i was comforted by a cool familiarity. the world around me was recognizable. i'd been here before. oh god. i'd been here before. but i wasn't supposed to exist. so neither should this abandoned home. the sky was forever stuck in twilight, with snow perpetually falling, but only compounding enough to leave a thin layer. it looked like the After was slowly consuming it. and I was the only one. why would they do this? why send me to a world i barely remember, stuck in a state of collapse? i can't know. but i can sure as hell survive.
ng h