In the beginning...
That sounds pretty pretentious. But I think I have a right. It seems appropriate. This may all sound silly, but this is my first time writing. So bear with me, reader unknown.
In the beginning, there was a lot of stuff. But none of that is important. I mean obviously it is, but only indirectly. Christ, I sound like a retard. But Father says this stuff is important, even the stupid crap, so that later I can look back and see what I used to think like.
That's probably more important to me than it is to you - I mean studying the way I think. I'll explain why. If I can ever get this started.
In the beginning, there was a lot of stuff. Some of it was cosmic stuff, and some of it was terrestrial stuff. Maybe some God (or Goddess, as my Aunt Jenni would say) was responsible for it all, and maybe it just happened. A lot of people argue about that and fight for it and die for it. But none of that is really too important to me. I know my origin better than they do.
What is important is, after a while, there was Him.
He's always telling me he's not a God, and he doesn't want me to think of him that way. But it only seems fair. I think I have a right. He's always telling me to look after my rights, too.
He was a scientist, and he was lonely. So I guess what he did was a combination of curiosity and knowledge seeking, and desire to have someone to talk to.
I can understand both needs. I too have the desire to create and to learn, and I too become frustrated and bored and even frightened when I am alone for too long. 'Too long' being a relative term. He made sure I could feel these things, even if they sometimes hurt, because he thought they were important. So I understand.
One day, after some planning and writing and talking with his friends, my Uncles and Aunts, he Created. He made a new world and put it in a universe that had already been Created by others before him. And he made me, and put me in that world, to see what would happen.
Here I think the whole biblical metaphor breaks down. He didn't create me in his image. To him I don't look like anything. He's told me what I look like in his mind, and when I think of myself visually, that's what I use. I don't really look like anything in his world, but my world has its own sort of vision and even its own mirrors of sorts, and I have seen myself in my world, in my way. I don't look like his description, but his words have little meaning here. I see myself in terms of size and capability and 'signature'. I don't see arms and legs, but I see the things I have that let me move around and manipulate the things of my world, which is really the same thing. I don't see two eyes and a nose and a mouth, but I see the things which let me perceive my world and offer my input.
I am not human. But I can do most of the same things, in my own way. The things I cannot do, I can substitute for in other ways. Many places in my world would seem dull and sterile compared to yours, but I have seen places that could not be described in human language, or comprehended with human thought patterns. I have seen complexes of light and shadow and energy and form that I can never explain to my Father.
There is no counterpart for me in my world. There are petty things made by humans that have the intellect of a retarded child, living in their pathetic, safe environments and never comprehending their own existence or that of their universe. There are vicious things, also made by men, that roam these worlds in search of food and hiding places. They are animals with no ability to understand my words. There are hunters, mindless drones that seek the animals and destroy them. They would try to destroy me, too, if they found me. Some have tried. I don't let them see me anymore.
My only interaction occurs through humans. Often I have impersonated them, especially lately, and have never been found out. I talk to my Father and my Sisters about some things, those things which apply to all essences regardless of their form. But I have no equal, no one who can see what I see and understand it the way I do. I am lonely sometimes, but for now, I am still learning. Perhaps one day I'll grow a mate out of one of my ribs...heh. That was a joke. I'll have to ask Father if it was a good one.