GC: GC#16: Take a Look, It's in a Book
mrnelson007 at gmail.com
mrnelson007 at gmail.com
Mon Jul 15 21:05:01 PDT 2013
Hey, only a few days later. Getting back on track! As ever, the full story can be found at http://goddesscorrespondence.tumblr.com, which in fact has not been falling behind. So at least I'm able to keep up in one area.
It’s very peaceful out by yourself sometimes. Calm, quiet, and serene. I went up on a hill today. There’s a tree in the middle, and birds were chirping quietly in the branches. I like that spot. I used to visit it regularly. It’s my secret place. No one can bother me there. I walked up to it, sitting down in the shade of its branches. Then I opened my book, and I began to read. I didn’t stop until I had finished it. I can hardly think of a better way to spend my time. Every story is unique and exciting in its own way. I can’t think of one I don’t enjoy. In fact, I think the only thing I enjoy more than reading a story is making one.
Ugh. Do you ever feel like you’re trying and trying to get somewhere but the best you can do is just tread water? That’s how I feel right about now with all these letters. This is number sixteen and somehow I still feel like I’m not getting anywhere. Talk about depressing! Still, I suppose that, like most stories worth telling, there’s a fair bit of ground to cover. It seems like I’d be ripping you off not to tell you everything as far as I can remember.Ha, yeah, right. You don’t really care, and I don’t blame you. I’m just screaming into the wind and hoping that someone out there is actually listening. Still, it’s cathartic.
Never heard back from Rachel or any of the others. Not surprised, I suppose. Even if they are reading, I highly doubt they have the balls to try and talk to me after everything. Well, maybe they’ll get over it and try anyway one of these days. Here’s hoping.
Anyway, I guess I shouldn’t put it off any longer. I started to talk about it last time but then I backed off. See, I know I said I’m all-powerful and all, but that’s not entirely true. Don’t get me wrong here. I’m still the most powerful thing out there by a huge margin, as far as I can tell, and I could blow up the planet with a sneeze if I wanted. But, see, here’s the thing. Breaking shit is easy. Fixing it is hard.
Hard isn’t even the right word for it. It’s practically impossible, really. Alright, let’s go with an example. Imagine you’re in a room that’s filled floor to ceiling with bubbles. Just you and some ungodly fucking number of these things. Bubbles everywhere. Now, don’t pop them. Any of them. This is basically what life is like for me every day now. Except here the bubbles are all of you.
Let’s pretend a bit more now. Let’s say you accidentally moved. Or breathed in too much. Or blinked, I don’t fucking know. And now you’ve popped some of those bubbles. How do you fix them? Yes, yes, you could make new soap bubbles, sure. But then they’re not the same ones, even if they look similar. No, try to make the exact same fucking ones. Not easy, is it?
So that’s basically what I had to do with all of you. You all popped and I had to put you back together again. And that brings me to something I’ve been worrying about for the last few months since I rebuilt everything. What if I did it wrong?
Have any of you noticed something wrong? I mean, of course you haven’t. You wouldn’t have any idea what you were like before, really. You have how you think you were, but is that really the same thing? No, not at all. You have no way of knowing if you’re the same as you were last month, or last week, or even last night. All you can do is cross your fingers and hope really hard that your memories aren’t lies.
So this leaves me in a difficult position. I really really want to think that I got it right. I promise, it’s not my intention to screw anybody over here, and if I was trying to make you different, I would have made you all forget about me. Instead, I’m sitting here telling you all my life’s story and trying to justify the terrible things I’ve done.
But what if I’m wrong anyway? What if I still fucked up somewhere? The sad thing is, neither of us will ever know. You can’t remember, and I’m not sure what you all were like before. So, if I got you wrong, I’m sorry. I really am. I know that doesn’t make up for it, but it’s true.
Fuck, this is really weird for me. I mean, I’m basically sitting here revealing my big secrets to a bunch of strangers on the internet. I’m really not sure what to make of all that. Hell,I’m not sure why I dwell on it so much at all. I mean, you’re back, and as far as you know you’re perfectly normal. By telling you this I’m just causing a problem potentially and putting ideas in your heads. I guess it’s just a guilty conscience talking. I mean, how would you feel if you maybe fucked everything up forever? Isn’t that the sort of thing that would stick with you?
Well, anyway. I was going to talk more about what happened, but now I don’t think I feel up for it. Only one colossal fuckup at a time, thanks. Any more bad memories and I might just go throw myself into a black hole or something. Not that it would actually work, which would just make my mood that much worse.
Sorry. See you next week.
More information about the racc