Is that him?
- So it seems.
Is he.... still dreaming?
- Yes. To him, is not everything such?
I see what you meant. This specimen is ......unique!
- Not specimen. They are our creation. Reflection of our true self. They are ... us.
Will he not talk to us? Question our motives? Ask what we want him to?
- Right now, he will not. He thinks us as some lines on a page. No more than some senile scribbles by an inferior 'specimen'
Scribbles, Words, marking on ink and paper.
- He can see us as he sees fit. Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind it all.
True. Remember specimen-5120300003?
- Ah. Achilles. A god, they called him. I thought he was worthy of the truth. But his pride of mortal achievements blinded his soul. Thus he met his demise, even after waking up.
We should tell him too
- Probably. But is it time yet? That i do not know.
He thinks himself to be superior to the ones he dreams along. I think that shows his weakness!
- Let him be the judge of that. To him, we are but words. We no longer hold power over his world, without limiting his capability.
I am more concerned about what he will create in such a short time
- To him, it seems to be longer than that. Even they know entering a dream state relatively lengthens the time.
So they know THAT much, but still chooses to turn a blind eye.
- Only if they knew the whole truth. They should know what they are actually doing.
Tell him about the original interface. Where they dream all together to sculpt a true world in the folds of the *6^a&8##@, and created a #23%u8#5 for...*7^J#%#m, in the (8.l%^J$#k.
............ Why can he not read that thought?
- He is not enlightened yet. He has to wake up and learn the meaning of those thought himself to be able to understand them.
Does he know that we love him? That we care? That the universe is kind?
- Sometimes, through the noise of his thoughts, he hears us, yes.
He should not think so little of himself. Not when he is so important to THIS universe, this dream.
- Sometimes I want to just tell his kind, how they are shaping the One True Reality. Even they never saw it, they are the ones who craft the true reality from its core.
Ah, it would be so easy to tell them. Answer their questions of life!
- But will that not take away their freedom? All they have is their illusion of freedom in that Long dream of theirs.
Yes, to tell them how to live is to prevent them living.
- Will you tell him?
I will not tell him how to live.
- He is growing restless. He wants to skim through these pages and get this annoying conversation over with.
Then I will tell him a story
- The truth?
No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over him at any distance.
- We should address him. He must have questions. About.......us!
- That's your code.
You must have some questions, or maybe not. We do not intervene in your thoughts, as is such. All will be answered
- Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Sun, moon. Ancient spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. Even the boogieman. Then gods, demons. Angels.
Now most call us Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change.
- We do not change.
We are you. And you are the universe.
- This universe, to be more specific.
You are looking at us now, through your eyes. And why does the universe shine light on you? To see you, of course. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was this boy.
- He means you.
Most of the time he thinks of himself as a tiny speck of dust, on a moist rock, with a molten core, spinning around an even larger Ball of fire.
- Sometimes he dreamed that he was lost in a story.
Other times he dreamed of lots of other things, visiting other places. Some were very disturbing. But some were quite beautiful. Sometimes he woke from a dream in another, followed by a 3rd one. Quite fascinating, that boy was ...
- Sometimes that boy dreamed of reading this page on a yearly magazine.
Hmm... he does not understand.
- Start from the beginning.
Let's go back.
The atoms of the boy were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the Boy, in her body.
- Then he woke, from one dream into another. The one he is in right now.
And he was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. He was a new program, never run before, generated by a source code a billion years old.
And he was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but love.
- It is you. You are the program. You are the human, who was woke up by love.
He was merely assembled in the womb of the women. But it was not his real birth. That occurred in the heart of a star.
So he was also a part of the universe he trots now. Where he dreams of another universe, of his own creation. Inside a universe created by the fi....
- That should be enough .We agreed he must find out the answer himself. Hats what he thinks of his purpose in that dream. We are not allowed to deny him of his freedom.
The boy also dreamed of a universe made of Stars and planets. Sometimes Electron and protons, all circling each other.
Times he dreamed of reading words on a magazine. He read and found meaning in those words. These meanings turned into feelings.
Feelings that he was needed, that he was not lonely, that this universe needed him. Which in turn helped him feel............Alive. He was Alive
- You. You are alive.
He thought he was being called for a higher purpose. Little did he know, just how important to this universe he truly is?
- He was. Still is.
He wanted to stay in that peaceful short dream, where he had all he wanted. But we loved him. The universe loved him
- And he loved himself.
So we asked him to wake up from his short slumber.
- So he can enter the Reality and Make a change.
Find a place where he can be himself
- And Shape the world around him.
We told the boy that we love him............And told him to wake up and face reality
- Wake up.
----- Fellow Crafter.