Submisions: The Creator

A book, a story, a thought. Thought's are intresting things are they not? While some argue that free will is something the mind has on it's own as it thinks and feels and acts according to it's beliefs, others argue that our minds are not actually our own. In Aza's home world of Temeraire, it is often speculated that the existance of gods dictates that mortal beings have no free will. But Aza knows it extends past that. As speaking with god often does reveal more questions than answers all he knows is that the gods themselves have similar thoughts. Something is watching them all, always.

Which brings us here, in this empty blackened void. Sometimes Aza writes down his thoughts in a book, usually it's the bad thoughts, though on occasion he does have happy thoughts to write down.. Still. Typically these dreams don't feel like dreams, maybe it's the act of writing down his thoughts that brings him here? Maybe, is it guilt? Regret? Fear? He walks alone in silence with nothing more than distant drip drip dripping in the background to keep him company. And the sounds of his own footsteps in what seems to be a consistant never endin shallow puddle of tears and distress.

 

It is always quiet here, asides from that. Konja often described an all loving being, it surrounds you in the form of your mind he said. Aza used to think that idea was stupid. Though, if he could describe his own inner turmoil. He'd have to describe it like this. Eternal lonelieness, and yet eternal bliss. Nothing can hurt him or be hurt by him in this world of empty void, though it is only a dream. And all dreams must come to an end, eventually anyways.

Sometimes he see's someone, a shadow, a figure, sometimes he thinks it's someone he knows, sometimes not, and on very rare occasion he see's someone who knows him more than he knows himself. Self awarness tends to awaken him when this happens, however.

 

He sits down today, this place is never bad, though it's never good either. It's a good place to reflect, dream or not it's not as if anyone would bother him here he thinks.................. He thinks. Someone is watching him again, he hears them breathing, though he's not sure where they are. It's not quite scary to him, he knows where he is. He knows what he is.

"Hey." His voice is quiet, barely audible as the sound falls flat within the void. He takes a moment to just listen, to wait. Nothing changes, nothing happens, it's still just the same. He is still him, and nothing in this dream has ever changed. Though as these words I write come to an end, and there is nothing left for me to say, nothing more to babble on about pointlessly for the sake of silly little numbers in a silly little game, he looks around. Before stopping, laughing to himself, of course. Of course how could he forget the being Konja speaks about enjoys sharing his existance with others, how could he forget how much he is loved by at least one person, one person who percieves him as who he is. He stares out into the void, and the void stares back. "Drink water, and have a nice day. Idiots." -Aza's personal goodbye for now.

 

Word Count: 564