I kept seashells in my pockets to keep what time forgets. The slow crashing waves of ocean blues. The inexplicable sound of nothingness and everything. The scent of salt so strong it could almost be tasted. The tension that rang in the air, I could not hear my own disdain. Oblivious, I mistook her for despair. The red sun, like a mother's blanket, like the inside of a womb. Being little, my mother told of how her water broke early, telling me how eager I was to be my own. I cried a lot as a child, I wished to be thrown back into the comfort of my mother's womb.
A place like the ocean, floating about without a worry to ponder. To exist without the conscience of knowing. I wished I could have stayed there forever. When I got there, I found cold and old tears in its stead.
I found the ocean did not exist, only delusions of what could be.
Instead I found comfort in the breathing sand. It burns your feet and swallows you whole. The warm sand that inhales slow, cradling the ignorant to sleep. Laying there, I fell through the sand, sinking to the bottom of our world. Where there should have been earth's core, there lay our god. The one we adored so feverishly lied so unbothered by our human struggles. If I were god I would shower humans with unbothered minds. If I were god I would do the same.
He lies in this haven watching life unfold, our prayers diminishing to a passing state of dissatisfaction.
Exploding with rage I approached that which shouldn't. Because there was rage the world went up in flames. My voice so hoarse I yelled,
"You there lay on your throne but while we starve you dine and while we die you're bored."
When god looked down he saw us, me. He must've pitied, thinking how utterly and unforgivingly consumed we were by what society said we could and couldn't be. His eyes filled with tears of boiling gold, our greed and his truth never being the same. He was born before his conscience and his truths became fantasy. Upon that throne lay our misfortune. With such tenderness swimming in his eyes, he said,
"Come child of mine and tell me my faults."
I didn't know where to begin, or if I should at all. My mouth opened but nothing came out, not words or shouts, pleas, or cries. None came out and there I was, sand underneath my feet.
Years went by and the earth became infertile. The masses starved, all kin alike. Desperate minds tried to drink the sea and died doing so. I found myself in front of God once more. I did not shout or plead or cry. I tried to reason with which had no reason. I showed god the earth which gives no fruit and the trees whose roots rot.
"This is what you have planted, seeds that rot and skies that flood." I said. He gave a look and said not a word.
Many more years and hardships did I go through before I was met with God once more. I pleaded this time, I pleaded because all I came to know were long dead. Taken by starvation and eaten up by this selfish earth. God could hear my anguish and greed.
"Ask and be answered, my child, ask and you will find." He said.
"All I have ever come to love is gone. Death is the reason god. I know we all must die but I cannot live with that. Tell me, why is it we must?"
God understood this question of mine. He understood human curiosity and grief. After all he created it all, and is all there is to be.
"I made you close to perfection, close to me, and to die is to pay the price. To die is to be perfect." He answered simply as if by logic. His logic is one I cannot understand yet one he still explains.
"God, if there is one thing you must know is that I do not wish to die. Though I understand the inevitability I can only ask of you one thing. Don't let me die as others have, let me be remembered for as long as knowledge is around. Do not let me die while I am insignificant. I do not wish to die but, God, let me be happy." Our God did not mind to grant me this one thing, after all one day I would cease to exist along with all knowledge we pride ourselves with.
The earth had resolved to rid itself of us, everyday struggling against itself as though it were a brick fucking wall crushing the sun and the moon. I lived life until I realized I needn't live nor for a reason nor sin nor promise of eternal life within knowledge. I didn't know what life was worth living for except the promise of death. As I reached closer to this promise I realized I was both insignificant and unhappy. Upon my deathbed did god come visit.
"Did you find that which you sought?" He asked. Eternity he must be referring to, to be remembered and live forever. I looked at our god, unable to conjure up a single tear, not of admiration or fear, disdain, or relief.
"You promised." My old voice managed to spill out.
"You will be remembered for as long as knowledge is well kept." God assured.
"I no longer care if I am insignificant. I just care to be happy for as long as I can grasp onto it." I confessed. I coughed some times, a few steps closer to dearest death. "I no longer fear death, but I do wish to know why we are born." I say.
"All are born to dream and be of the world and experience things in a way no other being can. You are all made like the ocean. The ocean exists and it is full of dreams." God said. With this I felt ready to leave. I harbored no hatred, fear, sadness, or regret, maybe except for living a life without happiness.
The next actions I cannot explain, maybe it was that our god decided to pity or show extensive mercy towards one that deserved none. He gave me happiness so that I viewed my life with nothing but. Suffering ceased and hunger became irrelevant. For the longest time, I thought happiness was a little girl too naive to know about sadness. Happiness is an old man content with life's bearings. Too old, too sad, too worried to think about anything else.
God told me of this old man as I died of starvation. I've never been happier.
