let's write stories at 5am

Gods don't care

In which I ramble on about my reincarnation theory for about half an hour and hope that something half-decent will come out at the end of it.

I don't need you. I'm a god. What use has a god for human touch? I have ascended beyond, into enlightenment. I see your suffering and laugh. Gods don't care about the fates of people like you. Yet I don't feel like I'm mocking you. All I feel is a strong current of strange satisfaction. You don't want me, so I don't want you either. That's how it works, right? Who am I? I ignore the question and smile behind my mask. I'm breaking apart. My metal is cold. Gods don't care. I will end your world, end your life, end everything. Yet I cannot end myself. I am nothing but a concept, a spirit. For that is the fate of a god - to watch everything fall while standing radiant throughout it all. I cannot see your face in these countless beings that crawl about this universe. I'm laughing. Nothing matters any more. Gods don't care. I look at my hands, stretching them apart over millions and billions and trillions of miles and miles and miles. I am the centre of this universe, the centre of everything you know and care about. Everything revolves around me. You don't matter. I could eliminate you in an instant. It's not hard. My mask has a crack in it. I'm still laughing. Does anyone really care? Gods don't. Stars shine in the endless sky all around me, above me, below me, everywhere I look. They hold the secrets of the universe within them but I don't listen to them. I already know it all. After so many incarnations, I have witnessed all that is worth witnessing. And now I look upon those incarnations and pity them for not knowing how they all have the same power. Their time will come, and that time is now. I am them all. I have been in every body, every mind, seen through every eye and heard through every ear. I was and will be everyone and everything. Their combined experiences flow through my body with powerless energy. The mask cracks a little more. I have favourite incarnations, even though a god should care about everyone equally - and by caring about everyone equally, I mean not caring about anyone. Two shine bright within me. They are special - they found each other, they loved each other, and they killed each other. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Why am I even saying this? I don't care. Gods don't care. The stars are falling. Or am I the one that's falling? The mask shatters. My frightened face is clear, my hair flowing about my shoulders. Gravity doesn't matter to me. Are gods supposed to weep? There's something I can feel. Is this what the living know as pain? It's terrifying. I'm terrified. Emotions tear at my insides. Fear, fear, fear, nothing but fear. I long for that happiness, that content that I was feeling. But it's too late. I've fallen into the abyss, fallen into the void, unable to do anything. The stars mock me. You can't be seen, no matter how much I try. But who are you? I am you. I almost forget it, because of the intensity of my love. You never felt anything for me. I never felt anything for you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you - it just happened. I'm sorry for not feeling your love. I'm sorry for dying so young. My eyes snap open. Can I hear you? I cannot reciprocate my own feelings. Gods don't care. Gods... don't care. The words ring hollow in the endless space. They don't mean anything. Nothing means anything, after all. I have so much power. I could do anything. But no matter how many worship me, I will never be able to feel their love. I cannot feel anything. I was only experiencing a memory of emotion. Perhaps real emotion is different - I can't remember. The stars are silent. I cannot breathe, for I have no need to. I will exist forever, past when this universe dies, past when I create a new one and live through my creations, past when I redo this process, over and over and over. Existence is a curse. Immortality is almost a dream. You cannot ascend with me, for I am all. I cannot love myself. And so I must live through my incarnations, unaware of the unstoppable fate that will eventually descend upon me. It will never end. I pick up the pieces of my mask and place them over myself. I am serene, calm. Gods don't care.