It's 2:04 am and what are you? You are different from the first. You're Much More than... him? Your written words speak directly into My Mind when I read them. I heard an old Man's voice. Not feeble but penetrating. I think I believe you. You speak about the woman in red. Was it her who left the Message of a twisted love? Who is she? How can she be comparable to you? I won't ask you for your identity. I have a pretty good idea of who you are. Your voice sent Me back. I remember you. You are the only one who I know to be real. You helped Me when I was lost. You helped Me when I had lost everything. Having all these Memories come back has Made My headache go poof as if it never was. I will obey. Wait, you don't like that do you? I'll rephrase then. I will listen and take your advice into consideration. She is My test isn't she? He is your Messenger. His body cannot withstand your presence thus it breaks down. He's not suited to be by your side. Not like I was. My day started like it always had. Bland, boring, and unbearable. The same food, the same scenery, and nothing out of place. Truly sickening. That was until I went to My art history class. We were going over Michelangelo again. This time the lecturer focused on his works on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. We went through the numerous works of art covering the entire roof of the Chapel. Four years and he had completely changed art forever. 1508 through 1512. The Most famous of which is the Creation of Adam. Michelangelo had a fascination with the hand of an artist. I May be incorrect but I believe he considered the hand of an artist to almost be equal to the hand of god. They both create Masterpieces after all. This can be interpreted by the hands of Adam and his creator reaching out to one another. Another interesting observation was Made in 1990 that the red area behind god is in the shape of a brain. This possibly indicates that god is giving intellect to Man but knowing the story of Genesis I would that credit to another. There is one More interpretation in which god is within Man's Mind. That Man created god. Chilling little afterthought. I spent the rest of day without paying too Much Mind to My surroundings. For what purpose is a life without surprises and happiness? I find only repetition and cruelty in My existence. Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed?
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The air is Most Moist and humid. Through the gaps in the jungle is visible the light of long dead stars. Here I sit in this depression I've dug with a tool given to Me by My enemies. The constant precipitation has paused and with it the dark clouds above have split. What a night for it to be My night. A night like no other I've spent before. The darkness unknown surrounding Me, Me illuminated by these giant bodies so far away, so long gone. Without their light none would know of their existence yet in producing their light they have burnt themselves out. Light has killed its creator. You have come now. I've given birth to you. You are My light in this unending Midnight. Now from My grave I say the final goodbye.