Hey, there! Got time for a chat about life? Yeah, I'm a pair of eyes. Heh.
Life is a series of choices.
Really. Think about it. The choice to fall asleep in class or not. The choice to battle the all powerful dark Sorcerer or not. The choice to eat the last cookie in the jar... or not.
And our choices are affected in two ways. The choices of others, and the natural world.
Hello. I am Time. And I come to you from the past, present, future and eternity.
Shall we begin?
In Europe, there is a boy. He will grow up to be a great doctor. He will find a cure for every previously incurable disease. He will save millions. He will be kind, and peaceful, and he will marry a woman equally kind, and he will go down to the grave in peace, loved and mourned by all. If only he hadn't slept in class this morning, during Biology. Now he will never begin his career. He will never find that cure for cancer. He will die alone, unknown by all.
But it's not his fault. You see, he fell asleep in class because he was truly tired, because yesterday he was playing computer games. A computer game introduced to him by a friend. And that friend was the by-product of his parents(though his real father isn't married to his mother, who is married, if you know what I mean). His parents were introduced by a mutual acquaintance, a sorcerer who had once fought in the War of Sorcerers. This acquaintance should have died on that battlefield. He should have been stabbed a dozen times over, taken to an enemy base, healed, tortured, herself again and tortured again, over and over till he died.
Instead his friend, a sorcerer who, had his potential blossomed, would have become a detective and saved many lives. In this case, sadly, he saved only one. And so it was he who died in that enemy base, screaming out the last vestiges of his life on the rack as serrated blades scored his flesh. The torturer was a man whom had undergone mental reconditioning by the enemy, transforming him into a sadistic murderer(he tripped and broke open his head. He died).
Choices. Choices and nature. These things shape the world around us. I have been there for every one of the greatest events in history. Einstein and his equation of time. Leonardo da Vinci, the dear fellow, drawing his beautiful master pieces on biology. And yet, people always overlook the small pieces. The small pieces of history that slip under the radar, the pieces that shaped the great and made them greater. And saddest of all, the heroes whose stories are never told, who never were. Like the young boy who fell asleep, whose potential will never be reached. History has a way with irony. He will die of the cancer that he should have cured, doctors bemoaning the inevitability of his death.
Unless, of course, he is murdered by that gang of thieves around that corner... yes, there he goes. Irony averted.
Are you afraid of me? Don't be. I am merely there. I was, and I will be. I am the passing of eternity, the golden sands trickling away, constant and demanding. I lead the party, for in my wake is death and life, art and history. I tromped over the great empire of Rome, wrote it into irrelevance. And yet, nothing is ever truly irrelevant. The ghosts of yesterday can haunt you today and tomorrow, and those who fail to leave their grasp never truly flourish. I have seen it. I have been everywhere. I have seen it all, and I truly know it all.
Are there aliens, you ask? What a laughable question! Of course. And yet I can tell you, humans are by far the most destructive creatures. Such cosmically, comically short lifespans, and yet capable of doing such incredible damage in that time. You speak of the deadly wonders that crawl and fly and scuttle over the skin of your planet? The audacity, I tell you! How many of their brethren have humans killed over the years? You have killed since the dawn of your creation and you will kill well into the dusk. And when there are but two of your kind left, when your monuments and structures have crumbled to dust, when the giant of humanity has been brought to its knees, when the last of your refuges have been shot, your soldiers moved down, your civilians torn apart and your planet a burnt out husk, when there are two of you left and your machines broken down, when the last animals have been slaughtered, then the animal in humanity will be released. They will bite and snarl and gnash their teeth and fight, and one will bash the other's head on the ground, and the earth will be splattered with blood, and then one will put its hands round the other's neck and the struggles will weaken, they'll weaken and slow and go limp and then it will be over and humanity will end.
Of course, life will reemerge, provided that sun doesn't die by then. But I doubt it.
I mean, how far away could an event like that possibly be?
