Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Egg

by Andy Weir. (Thanks, Iqa, for showing this to me.)

You were on your way home when you died.


It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.


And that’s when you met me.


“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”


“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.


“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”


“Yup,” I said.


“I… I died?”


“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.


You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”


“More or less,” I said.


“Are you god?” You asked.


“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”


“My kids… my wife,” you said.


“What about them?”


“Will they be all right?”


“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”


You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.


“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”


“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”


“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”


“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”


“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”


You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”


“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”


“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”


“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”


I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.


“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”


“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”


“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”


“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”


“Where you come from?” You said.


“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”


“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”


“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”


“So what’s the point of it all?”


“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”


“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.


I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”


“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”


“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”


“Just me? What about everyone else?”


“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”


You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”


“All you. Different incarnations of you.”


“Wait. I’m everyone!?”


“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.


“I’m every human being who ever lived?”


“Or who will ever live, yes.”


“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”


“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.


“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.


“And you’re the millions he killed.”


“I’m Jesus?”


“And you’re everyone who followed him.”


You fell silent.


“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”


You thought for a long time.


“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”


“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”


“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”


“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”


“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”


“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”


And I sent you on your way.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Gambling Hands

You are the Court card combination
That makes an Ace of Spades not one
Of such low numeration
From a hand that has not won.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Extraordinary Mind

by Andre Jordan.

I do not care what car you drive where you live,
If you know someone who knows someone who knows someone,
If your clothes are this year's cutting edge,
If your trust fund is unlimited,
If you are A-list, B-list, or never-heard-of-you list;
I only care about the words that flutter from your mind;
They are the only thing you truly own,
The only thing I will remember you by;
I will not fall in love with your bones and skin;
I will not fall in love with the places you have been;
I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

In Memoriam

Fields of yellow, shades of grey
Overcast along the way;
Eyes of brown and skies so blue
Look like they're smiling back at you

You're as vain as they come
Yet your feet are on the ground;
Your mind flies above the clouds;
Your will is strong, your heart is proud

How you knew me then
But I could never tell

When you need someone,
You know just where to find me
And when you need a friend,
You know just where I will be;
I will be there
For you

Still waters run deep,
Hiding secrets not so easily retrieved;
They follow us beyond the grave
To where your memories are saved

We were younger then
And I remember it well

See me sink into the floor;
Watch me disappear up underneath my skin;
What's mine is yours is back once more
And times won't come back 'round again

We were foolish then
And I
© NurBanun Atina Idris, 2010

Sunday, August 22, 2010

An Apple Cleft In Two

This quote is too good not to share.

In greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” - Plato's Symposium

Friday, June 18, 2010

Black Beauty


A protector’s image in the eye of mind
Alongside the sun and stars
Not like in beauty but like inside
Unequal distance, equally far

Pockmarked skies and painted clouds
Echo words between the grass
Riding on the backs of which
Lie secrets of the past

The harsh screams will pierce right through
And speed like bullets, like a train
A wish I may impose on you
To chase away the pain

Pay no heed, no thoughts nor mind
To sheltered words as sharp as swords
Deserving of replies unkind
Of swift-spoken retorts

Your visage in my eye of mind
Alongside the sun and stars
Not like in beauty but like inside
Unequal distance, equally far.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Sleepless Lament

With bated breath and stolen smiles,
The watcher watches thee;
With smokes, mirrors, and heavy sighs;
With quiet dignity.
From the eye within the mind
That thinks ever so fond
Come quick the waves of feeling kind
And strength within the bond.
O! Save me from this wretched curse;
I'd then bid thee adieu;
Make thee the last as well as first
To take me for a fool.
However brief, merciful be
The emptiness inside
Could simply eat the whole of me
No matter where I hide;
And so I hope to Gods above,
I pray I will break free;
These vines that hold me to thine love
Would let me go, I plea.
Alas, the time has not yet come
For me to mend my ways;
The damage henceforth has been done
And put me in my place.
Choose not, want not, but here I stand;
Alive, awake, alone;
Betrothed to dreams so fleeting and
Left chilled down to the bone;
And unto this I bow my head,
I lay these thoughts to rest,
Embrace the night and head to bed
For an hour's sleep, at best.