An all powerful, all knowing, eternal entity beyond human perception or conception, forever bound to a set of predetermined laws that it doesn’t understand…formed from nothing, with no companions except for the clay figures it makes, infinitely inferior to it in terms of intelligence, incapable of understanding a single thought it has as it drifts through eternity, formless…it can create life, intelligence, and self awareness, and it can control the universe as it wills, but it can’t create the thing it wants the most: Something, someone who comprehends it.
Imagine the loneliness of the countless eons that pass as it desperately struggles to maintain its sanity, despite never having it to begin with. It creates emotions, and feels the void in itself widen as it tries to comprehend jealousy so that it might feel it towards the laughing, crying, excited, bored, loving, hating humans, infinitely inferior to it and yet so different, so strange that it can’t help but wonder what it’s like to be one of them. It has experienced more sensations than the sum of life itself, yet no pleasure, no pain—it’s never tasted popcorn, or broken its leg, or relaxed in the cool shade on a hot summer’s day.
It knows the future, and thus is fully aware of the emptiness that lies ahead of it—the monotonous and static eternity, no day any different than the next, no second any shorter than the previous. Its only comfort is watching the life on the planets it’s formed, moving in seemingly random patterns to his other creations—yet it, the one who knows the future, foresaw their every motion, every thought, every instant of existence long before time began. At times, it wishes it had the power to alter itself, so that it could cut away its great intellect, lock up its foresight, and follow the lives of the creatures it’s created, knowing as little of their future as they do.
But, alas, it has its rules to follow—rules of morality that it cannot disobey, that it finds impossible to disobey. It is compelled to harm the souls it creates for reasons that it cannot understand, to torment their minds and bodies for the rest of eternity. The others, the rare few who aren’t subjected to eternal torment, confuse it the most—the entity doesn’t understand anything but the numbers of the universe, how much pleasure they caused, how much pain. It only understands the pleasure and pain a soul caused, and how the two compare—but it isn’t the one who decides what happens to a soul.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. Wherever a soul goes, the soul will join the Entity in eternity sooner or later, where the eons blend together and sanity is lost. It doesn’t have emotions, doesn’t have the ability to feel despair or boredom or even sadness—they are not so lucky. It is never allowed to end the suffering of even the most pious souls as they beg it to erase their minds, send them into oblivion where their thinking will cease. The screams of the souls damned to heaven echo throughout the entities mind as it drifts, half dead in its madness, moving through the motions of its existence with the knowledge that it will never end.
It is all good, and yet doesn’t understand good. It is all powerful, but it doesn’t understand power. It is all knowing, but it doesn’t understand knowledge.
It is all suffering, but it doesn’t understand suffering.
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I'd have a small philosopher ball with this, but alas, a paper to write...
What is it? I mean, obviously, it's a god. Or something. But which?