There is an island, far away in both distance and time. On this island lives a man. Every evening this man wakes up and walks outside. Beauty and absolute tranquility hits him from all aspects, and he knows not the difference in moonlight or sunshine, only that they are both perfect. The sea around him is calming, the wind a song that he can always hum. He travels the world, day in day out, and all is endless. He wonders if he is truly upside down, or if time is nothing more than a theory we put together that is all but an inconsistent Variable in the grand scheme of things. The world was so vast, yet so imperfect.
The man decided to pray to his forefathers (or mothers?) to understand to scope of life. The wind swept this man away, high into the sky. What happened next, he could not fathom. As he transcended the atmosphere and beyond he realized that his world was but a raindrop amongst a thunderstorm accompanied by millions of other raindrops. Like a camera zooming out he realized his entire world was now capable of dropping into the palm of his hand. He wondered now if was was small or big, and what life truly meant. Was his entire solar system but particles of sand in an endless desert, changing forevermore, or droplet in a rainstorm? He wondered if he was but a simple organism in a small cage in someone's classroom in a parallel universe that dwarfed even his imagination.
He had to know further, and again found himself "zooming out" until he was so far that the entire world of storm became on droplet, a solitary tear that was streaming down a crying boys face, a red haired child outside watching the rain, crying.
The man woke up now, and gave thought to what he had dreamed. He thought "If I am truly upside down, then if I walk of a cliff, I will fall upwards and discover the reality of my dreams, my prophecies. He walked outside, grabbed his favorite things, and walked out to the cliff, towering so high he could see nothing below (or above?). He smiled, and jumped. It was (almost) the last thing the man ever did (alive, anyhow...).
Ironically, the moment before his death, he lay at the bottom of a ravine, contemplating life. It began to rain, and as the droplets hit him he could not help but wonder...on a level far smaller than molecular, a scale so small we cannot understand, how many lives and worlds were exploring as each drop his his dying body. He wondered if he was the ravine to another life that had fallen from above. No, it doesn't make sense! He wanted to know, but knew he was dying, he had hit his head so hard, he was drawing a blank and fading. He wondered if he ate a brain if he would absorb their memories. No, that can't be so simple. Simple. He wondered now "If I can only get out of this ravine, I could start over. I could!". The man, with the last of his strength grabbed a pen and paper from his pocket, and wrote his ideas, should anyone find his body.
It was found, 4 days later (or perhaps 4 years, all things considered), and it read "I have finally come to understand the world, and my theory is this". The note ended. The sky turned green and for 3 days it rained thorns and poison, and all was doomed. Humans as we know were melted and burned, left to rot, famished and diseased, and plagues of new came to light. Fires raged after the rain stopped, and Fenrir destroyed the world as we know it, and a new era began!
Little Timmys life was once so simple, as he sat on his porch watching the rain, completely unaware that millions of catastrophes and extinctions were occurring all around him. Life was so simple, just yesterday. Today Little Timmy sat out in the rain crying, the child's red hair soaked, as a solitary tear streamed down his face. Today his father jumped from a cliff and died.
