sOt

I don't know what's cooler.
That we might be an alien creation,
or that we lived millions of years ago, and were able to travel the galaxy.

Either choice holds great implications.

Is there another choice?
Damn Richard Hoagland and his persuasive talks.

I still don't know about the 'structures made of glass' on the moon.
But maybe I'm just clutching my current worldview.
"I can't imagine why you wouldn't, welcome any change my friend"
indeed.

Piece of Fiction (Part 2)

(Some time later)

His arm was back. No one could understand how it was possible. As he tried to explain the process he used to materialize his thoughts, he found his audience becoming quite hostile. For some reason, he thought of Jesus. Killed for showing off?

His mind began to manifest reality uncontrollably. His fear took over. He was in a tulpa universe of pain and terror. He was afraid he would be there forever, so it was so. He was afraid everyone knew what had happened, and were ashamed. He felt their judgement stealing his life away.

He tried to imagine a way out, in his terror. He saw a doorway before him. He opened his eyes, and there it was. He had but to think it, and it was so. All of his fear disappeared in a wave of security. He felt safe, and in control once more. In fact, he felt more in control than ever before.

He walked to a store and bought himself a winning lottery ticket. He winked at the receptionist and she threw herself at him. He took a deep breath, and he was floating in space. He felt something behind the joy now. Something he hadn't expected.

He felt reality slipping away now. Having lost it's meaning, the laws which hold it together broken, the world came apart, leaving only a void. But the void was a reflection of himself, he knew, he was empty, just like the world he had created. He resigned himself to unbeing or damnation, whichever the universe saw fit to bestow upon him.

And in a flash again, it was over.