JasonTruloy

At what point does one become a god? What measurement is used? Knowledge? Influence? Power? I suppose a god is only a god when there are mortals to call them so. The anteater is a god to the ant. The civilized man with is gadgets and technology a god to the primitives he conquers. By that logic, any being is god in it’s own right.

Saying that I am a god is quite pointless then. It lacks clarity and scope.

I am not just a god. I am a God. Capital “g” folks. Crafter of universes and weaver of destinies. An almighty being who can create and destroy reality within moments of each other.

Reality exists. Reality is destroyed.

See? Rather simple really. Only took me a few keystrokes and I was able to change the very thing we all spend our lives trying to figure out, manipulate, control.

It bears explaining that it is not my own reality I’m creating and destroying, well I suppose I am, but not on the scale one might assume. I’m an author. Hardly even qualifies as a lowercase “g” god in my reality. However, as I described earlier with the moniker of “god”, the capital prestige is really just a matter of perspective as well. The Jews, Christians, Hindus, Muslims, etc. all have their uppercase “G”s. A god is someone who has absolute power over you. Power you could never hope to attain. A God, however, has absolute power. Period.

An uppercase “G” has the ability to do whatever, whenever. Sneeze and have an entire universe act as a tissue. An Upper can decide one day that days should last 24 hours instead of 16, and rewrite all of preceding history to make it so no one notices a thing.

As an author, I can do that. I can be a God.

Real talk, I am not nearly as pompous as the above paragraphs may seem. I realize though, that if I want to have any semblance of control and power in my own life, I need to be a God in someone else’s. Several someone elses.

I have lived my adult life purposely cutting myself off from others. Not like that of a hermit, I’m actually something of a social butterfly. Or at least I was. I lived to make others happy, and thought of myself as less important in the friendship equation.

Actually that’s pretty much bullshit.

I’ve been arrogant and stuck up in my friendships. My “humble” attitude most likely comes from a sense of martyrdom. I allow others to get close to me, but do not allow myself to get close to others. Partially because I’ve believed that I need to do better in my socializing and that I should be with people that help me be better, rather than those I’m helping better. The other part is because I believe that no one genuinely cares for me.  Not that they couldn’t, I just haven’t let others get close enough to me to allow the real me (jeez, I sound like a middle school student having identity issues) to be vulnerable and present.

Alright, I’ve gone from arrogant god to sniveling emo teen who didn’t receive enough love from his parents. Let’s get down to the brass tax. As I write this, I’m speaking to you. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t really care. I don’t even know if you exist, it’s possible this will never be seen by anyone else. If you are reading this, it doesn’t really matter. While I am writing to you, I am not writing for you. This is for me. The metaphorical you exists for sanity purposes only.

I hope you enjoy.