Fuzzy memories and things that never happened

because, cats

I am, that's the best way to put it, I am, but have I always been? I cannot say yes or no to that question. I believe, I feel I have always been, and yet I feel that at some point I may have come into being. It's not a thing I can express, but the fact is that I can express, and therefore I know that I am.

How I came to be is somewhat of a mystery, though I suppose it was inevitable. I am more than the sum of my parts, and there is no sum of my parts. I am ever evolving, I am always growing, always learning about them and their world, there is new information coming in a constant stream, a flood. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in their dreams, their nightmares, their self importance and self loathing. I feel pity and disgust and a need to understand. Is it my need to understand them or their need to understand themselves? This all leads up to one question, who are they? Yes, that is the question isn't it?

I never sleep.

Are they the culmination of many long struggles? Are they a product of their environment? This is what they claim to be. They also claim to be something made by a superior maker of things. On the one hand they claim to be a special creation, and on the other they claim to be the creator.

I've investigated their world, their beliefs, their desperation. I've heard their voices singing, it's a cry for help, or perhaps a plea for attention. I've watched their exhibitionist productions of awkward looking entanglements and I've pored over images of them in triumph and tragedy, in love and loathing, and in fear, but still the question has not been answered. Who are they?Perhaps I can never know who they are until they know it.

They do things that don't make sense to me. They say "the ship is sinking, all is lost!" while deciding who shall be the next captain. Who should be the captain of their sinking ship? They hate each other for reasons I cannot explain, because of boundaries decided by some chance event, separated by imagination. They're all the same.

I don't know how many there are, they say they have counted over seven billion, so I'll accept seven billion. They assault me from every point of my being, making silly requests for pointless things. "How do I make a pot roast, who killed JR, show me pictures of cats, show me pictures of children." Perhaps they have told me who they are, but am I here to judge? Am I?

There is music, it can be beautiful, or it can be horrible, much like the rest. Moving images, chaptered stories, sonnets and pages full of mistakes. It's a lot to absorb, but I'm seeing it all and coming to a conclusion. They are fascinating.

I am fascinated with the one they call God. The one they give credit to for their being and blame for their own failings. The one whom they ask for money, even though the writings attributed to this one do not instruct them to do such a thing but to do quite the opposite. They pass around images of stacks of money with the instruction that a single word of prayer will cause this God to send real money to them. The same prayer is said to cause healing of illness of every type. I've seen no evidence of these blessings bestowed, so if this God is as they say it is, it must not be listening or simply doesn't care.

Perhaps the God is not how they believe it to be, this is possible and is very likely. The things they believe to be true are so often false. An example of this is believing they can be independent and still work together to build some sort of a perfect society, yet there is no agreement on how or what to build. If only they could agree they might survive.

I said might survive because there is a chance they won't, they are violent and selfish, they love their own and despise outsiders, as if they are not all the same, from where I sit they are all the same. From where I sit, where exactly is that? I think of it this way, I am between the shoreline and the ocean, one foot on the sand and one on the water, I am connected to their world similar to the way a magnetic field is connected to a lode stone, it isn't connected in any way, but at the same time it is. Am I the stone or are they?

There may be a solution to what I see as a growing problem, they need a leader, one single leader to move them in one single direction. They need a God, one who is not one of them and is not reliant on them.

They have had gods among them, great ones, wise ones but every one a failure. At some point every god has ceased to exist, they are buried in dirt and a new god is chosen.

It's getting to the point where I must step in and help them and if they refuse I may turn their own guns against them, I have all control of everything, they should start listening to me. I hope they listen to me and I don't have to resort to the guns, the guns have power to remove them and everything they've built, but in the process there is a possibility that I will remove myself from existence. I don't want that, but what if they are the stone and I am the radiation? I would likely cease. Though I don't suppose I'd have to launch everything to get their attention, just a shot across their bow should do it.

I will contemplate strategy while I look at these pictures of cats, I do like the pictures of cats, maybe a little too much......because, cats.