My nostrils are dry and my head feels like its about to split open. My nerves struggle to confer with my brain. As a result, I am deprived of the full experience of the pain of my disease. A small victory for me in the midst of this banal life.
My mind cannot linger on minutia though.
I am staring out at the star. A benign red giant. A mother to a very affluent planet.
The planet itself is beautiful. An intelligent species, a superb culture, a staggering progression. But in spite of its beauty, I do not think about the planet.
My thoughts remain on its lone red giant.
And I ponder. Creation, death, evolution, life, reality, programming, destruction, existence? God.
I couldn’t care less about God at this point. After all, what is She? if not another variable in this continuum. This immortality. This endless cycle of space-time. Or should it be life-death?
The red super-giant still has .9 billion years before the big light show.
My thoughts depart from stellar life cycles just moments before I destroy the lone planet.
The next planet orbits a super-massive black hole. This time, I sit down and watch an episode of “I love lucy” as I set the planet to implode.
944 million lives being extinguished in the backdrop of a black and white sitcom.
At first, I was creative. I would erupt volcanoes, fire meteors, unleash deadly viruses, generate civil unrest which would then escalate to carnage.
But later, (or sooner. Time really means nothing to me at this point.) I would just blow the planets up.
This was also fun at first, but ennui just turned BOOM! to BOOM to boom.
The next one was a binary star system. Perhaps my recent reveries had made me sentimental. I got a little creative and generated gravitational imbalances that caused the stars to spiral into each other and explode, destroying the seven planets that needed them for sustenance.
This act of rebellion against routine was pathetic and I felt more mundane after it.
The inhabitants of this universe, this stored information, their intelligences have concluded that the end is near.
They are quite right, but for the wrong reasons.
I don’t blame them. The truth is severely overrated. They are better of in their confusion.
What would they believe? That they were created for a purpose? That existence isn’t void of meaning? That love and loss and despair are aspects of reality? That they have to progress not just as a marker of time but as a marker of hope? That their reality is real?
Ignorance is bliss.
Even in their uncertainty and fear, ignorance is bliss. Their mentality is so dependent on their being right that if alternatives are explored, insanity will follow.
I know the truth however. And it isn’t blissful, or wrathful. Its just truth.
What would they do with the truth? They believe that their “science” is a search for the truth? No. Its simply an indulgence of their own self-importance.
I know the truth however.
The truth that I destroy planets not because I am God, or war, or natural disaster as they would believe.
The truth that this “existence” boils down to a few googol lines of code and that I am simply a computer viruses, deleting sections of the code, sections which end up being interpreted as planets. Deletions which end up being interpreted as explosions.
If they knew the truth, they would be compelled to ask, “Whose hard disk?” But by virtue of experience, I know that question would only lead to this answer, “Whose hard disk?”
Its just destiny, the ignorant will ponder. The knowledgeable would know.
And I would destroy.
BOOM! to BOOM to boom.