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In the Beginning

He:
…and so it has begun. I have not written in so long. I kept my memories hidden.

She:
You might have been the Master Magician. Your power stopped the Universe again and again. You were too afraid to use it, too cautious…

He:
Didn’t want to be God… at least not God unheeded.
I asked the Universe to be perfect for me. I asked All of me to divine my full destiny from a perfect foundation, so that every subsequent action, supported by that foundation, would likewise be perfect, and so perfection in all my choices, deeds, consequences and opportunities evermore.
She:
Did it work?
He:
How do I know? Everything is a particle and wave. Everything is tainted by the single point of view of the observer… I am dependent. I have a pain in my neck. I have a dead son.
She:
You have tomorrow.
He:
There is no tomorrow. There are only memories, distant and close… stories.
She:
There is no absolute sequence in time?
He:
Only a choosing of what movie frame you want your soul to occupy moment by moment… and the gracious power to keep all those frames separate, individualized, so they needn’t be experienced all at once in hellish chaos. Everything exists simultaneously… fiction friction scraping the time flow.
She:
But everybody grows old...
He:
Uniforms to rags, to strands, to naked flesh hanging on upper thighs… large breasts drooping in the mirror… pouch belly over intestines… beautiful innocent eyes saying, “Don’t hurt me, please.”
She:
and dies...
He:
“Let me play the one who hurts you. I won’t hurt you.”
She:
except God.
He:
“I am you as you are me.” I am I… locked alone in a closet with the hideous death-face skeleton in a bellhop’s uniform.
She:
How long is the time flow?
He:
How many memories does it contain?
She:
I remember the things I have learned, the good, the bad… the powers and disappointments. Didn’t you once upon a time recite that “Every failure is a success…
He:
“Because we learn something new to apply next time.” How could a person go wrong with shit advice like that? Failure after failure, learning how to fail over and over again, to take and accept it “til there ain’t no sense in trying”.
She:
Poets’ words.
He:
Good advice… defining the absolute, ultimate goal… happiness.
She:
Such a simple goal?
He:
Long term and short term happiness. That’s all. Joy never-ending.
She:
From there, from your foundation, judging if your every action is perfect, with no chance to alter the path. Rest easy.
He:
I never was right about the ultimate goal. Vigilance went down after many years. Now I must believe in fairytales.
She:
Where is the love?
He:
The cult of love. We must all believe in it. Our heroes from the Jesus to the Beatles support it. They seem like rebels. Believe in love. Give yourself a way to the sacrifice. Believe in the hereafter. I am alone, the sound of cartoons in the other room. Nightmares walking before my eyes. Witches’ brewery. A sword my tongue unsure of English vocabulary. Words intimidating. Do you think I can stand up to all that controversy without a team to make me feel alright about it?
She:
I know what you have done, created, wrote and said. I know you need be intimidated by no one. It is the audience with a problem.
He:
So how do I take care of it on my own? Make a creation without cooperation. Does a book exist if there are no readers? Does an idea matter? I am the Master Magician. I am the Mystic no more. Can’t be both at the same time. Must let go. My music shall play forth. This is our place in the time stream. There is only one time stream, the one I am making. I am God. A conversation with Myself is too easy. Dark corridors to converse in. Mystery enternal beautiful.
She:
Bullshit. Mystery is ugly with terrors to dawn. Laughing at our weakness and helplessness, vulnerability and fear, kissing ass. Oh God don’t step on me like an ant. Don’t break my neck. Don’t kill my children.
He:
It can still get worse. The Lord my God is an imaginative god.
She:
And then the Intuitives came to town. They said we got no time to think about it because that’s just a thought after thought after thought after thought... Who will next see the singularity?
He:
There can be only…