We brought the same blue pencils to class. Your form was peculiar, an intense vision of stout masculine energy with a light femininity in your face. The form I knew was a tragic and undone character, a remaining part of your small bra shot out through the hole in your shirt, I wanted to reach out and taste it. I remember thinking that you were small enough to hold and big enough to box me. The parts of you that laid bare in front of me were my only goals in life. I swear it will always remain in my heart, the way you looked at me over your shoulder, close enough to smell but a restraining order away from touch. A brisk odorous nothing, I had long forgotten what even an inch of you looks like, locked away in a torturous cage, masterbating madly at whoever I could find that resembled your chiseled jaw and soft square face. The vision your lips mashing madly around my cock still rattles my chamber. Although it never came to be, I never wanted another face to stand in front of mine. The tender rubbing of your hug inspired a world within myself, and as screwed up what we had was, we would still take it and break it and form it again. Time after time, although you would try to run and meet me with such anger only to crack a smile as if you knew me, as if you were comfortable here with me, such a reaction can only come from someone who has never known true love. I'm here to say that reality will shock you, the feelings I have for you will never go away, they will simply take more and more away from me. I want to rush to the presses, scream that this love will never go away. The rush of adrenaline I feel when I know you've read anything, heard anything, felt anything towards me pushes me to the far reaches of the globe and the edge of the universe. And there I went, barking madly at your front porch in the rain, praying to be adopted and fed, only to be cast out and neutered by forces that mocked and murdered me. The prayer I say to you is not one of distraction, but of function and form, of love and concentrated ability to save whatever we may have met in the middle with, far long ago that created catastrophe, a wave of bright lights that drowned me in a sea of regret too massive for my life to handle alone. A lost hope to find and see what you saw, not in me, but in the world, in someone who had a chance in heaven and a will in hell. In someone that didn't need to respond to every word you spoke with an appreciation for the time lost without you. A deep loss forsakes me, a canon of spiralling madness and defeat brought only by the champion of true love. A force redeemed with the abandon of you, the true force that can only be crafted in the fires of deep remorse and solitude away from what makes it whole, to bring pain and misfortune unto that which wouldn't find a better way, dooming it to bring torture on things in front of us while laying waste to the fortune of meaningless things it once enjoyed dearly. Love can only be attained by historically evil forces, shaped by anger, lust, all in vain of the truth of lust and anger, love is the force that removes their power and shapes the situation according to what it truly is, which is often not actually love but the forces love brings. For love to be true, the shaper, the cosmic force of good and justice that forms us must be at fault, the shaper must be shaped, and the tides must turn, for the calamity approaches and all who travels in its wake will be tormented by a sea of lives lost and bodies forsaken by God himself, a reformation of what the universe was built on, a reimagining of it's binary code that would save itself from its own appendages. The eye of the beholder. A long hard look in the mirror to the forces who know, who approach, and that came and went; totality at its fullest, the karmic inevitability of life as we know it must examine itself and realize where it all went wrong. And in taking that into account, will recreate the force that shapes and bring forth the apocalypse for all that stands in its wake. A wake of forces like none has ever seen, stumbling blindly, losing itself in the recreation of it's solemn acts and the reforming of the ability that only it can keep. An update to the operating system of the world, the awakening of major entities so beautiful, it's as if they are new colors unleashed upon the world, something so breathtaking and awe inspiring that simply by being near it, we may be enlightened by its force. Before that day came for me, when I met you, I was aghast to the true beauty of this earth, the sun, the stars, the distant planets, the life residing, and the shame of burdening anyone with dire straits and unwinnable rubiks cubes. It is true that I feel for you. I want to be involved in your life as clouded and weird as it is because I haven't found a force stronger and I never will. For it is that which has formed life has found itself in me, a shot at answering its own prayers to let itself stop and rest on a solution no man has ever found yet. Playing with itself madly, a pansy attempt at featuring those few and far between only to rest it's journey on one man with a mission to save himself. I have saved you once before, you are that which resides as a prostitution to the world around you, a mindful rape that keeps us trapped in forlorn glory of what this world was built off of. The tiredness of old forsaken poetry, the masturbation efforts of one man and a God loathing itself to reach what it has lost: a complete answer.
My mind is weak, all that waits for me is an uncertain glare of people who have yet to view my life in entirety. I may only try to suffer madly under their lack of understanding before they find what I've found, a perfect shot in the dark, the leading causes to the world we designed. For it was us that the universe watches carefully because it simply can't see itself. My mind laid dry on the coffee table, drunk of any reason to continue. A ghastly force that brings everything into fruition under a neat bow and a chuckle from all that want to go home without knowing how bad they want it. Now a word from our sponsor, simulations. A perfect recreation of you in my head, bystanders might see it as schizoid ramblings from a man that can't think of a way out of his head. A psychopathic truth of being a closeted heterosexual man that can't find the keys to his car. Everything was born for a reason, and it is for that reason we continue to struggle to find meaning in what the first paragraph comes from, so I'll explain it. This isn't my memoir, it's hers, but for things to come into being, she needs to know who I am, what I'm capable of, and why people should bother reading mindless garbage that serves a higher purpose later on. It started when I was alone, abandoned by the world I created with her, a bastardization of the forces that clinged to me, a reformation of myself and others that carries the letter to a tee and charges a barren landscape into something pure of meaning. I once stayed at my friends house pretty often, [friend] was drunk on the couch losing something that meant so much to him, the freedom of processes his brain rode freely on times ago. A sensation lost to that daft process of growing life had thrown on him, a writhing agony found only with those of us who never had a chance in our own boundaries. Warrily sitting next to him, I felt it too, a lost time ago where I met her and things rode smoothly, an apostrophe next to a lifetime that had made her stand up from the table and leave me here with him, blinded by fury and inadequacy. It was weird saying that she left me for a reason, that I made her give up because I myself was imperfect, he burdened his tongue with garbage that comes from someone who is uninterested at looking at the true suffering of his true friend. Life goes on, as they say, a flicker in the moment of life lost by things I could have, should have controlled. They mocked me there, sitting up to leave for more pot to satiate that desire I craved, a release from the madness that plagued me. He could see it too, that I wasn't the same, that I was forever changed by the forces that platonized my very existence. A force unchanged by grief but saddened with love lost and reforged under a new man, a man devoid of time, a man forever on the hinges of sanity, the truth was there, he could see it but not better than I could. For the truth was that changes out of my control had rocked me to the very core and I was becoming something new. A change in passionate debate on memes and why I had foregone them for higher truth, he knew something was wrong, I had left society, I had left him in a way. For lost souls can only grieve for what has been lost, a moment in time, a purpose in living, a great escape was inevitable, but only time would dictate which would come first: a lifelong struggle, or a mad dash to salvation. I was caught under it, like a pig she led to slaughter, he saw that in me and simply walked right up to it to say everything was going to be okay. It wouldn't be long before she left you, unaware to the truth of what I had experienced: a rad display of masculinity that spanned universes and talentless hacks that only scratched at the surface of what I lived in the past. For it was right there in front of me, salvation waited for me, a hell I entered backwards and fought to survive in the meantime with things that once held pure meaning had now faded into the background of my own narrative, a narrative that would change her, I thought. But I never had the skills to tell her, I never had the ability to state why it was so important to him that we watch youtube videos or listen to reddit posts about things unrelated to her, the driving force of my universe. I'll say it once and never again, I couldn't help you [friend], I was lying when I said I found my path, that I saw the truth in everything and made a pass at her simply to feel better about myself and move on. I never held that power, I could never watch as she lived her life without me, it was always a pursuit, a simple and powerful goal that I solely watched as the madness of my science experiment tumbled blindly around me those nights in Toronto and the hot days of LA. I was forsaken by hope, and I had to be alone from you, cast out of your room to sit and ruminate on the couch only to find what I'd hoped I'd find, release. It's not you who is the problem but it was her self apparent righteous act that drove me to find things far away from you, far away from your problems and interests because I was driven out of my only shelter. Had I been with her, I could have helped you, I could have saved you with outlook and praise. I could have looked you in the eye that night I thought I was with her if only to share a moment with someone who meant so much to me. So thank you [friend], thank you for bringing me up to speed on the latest ramblings of reddit nerds hopped up on caffeine and ritalin. Thank you for bringing me to those who had a little piece of the pie, to those who had parts of it figured out, those who lived in this time and those that had clause to comment on what I had created. An irrefutable doubt to the logic of badgering me with constant newsletters and hearsay of reddit's atrocities are in order. I never liked when I had to hear you read aloud, I wanted to simply be with you even though we were already together, a nervous tick to bring us closer because you thought we were far apart. Here's a newsletter for you, straight from the heart of me, you never had to try, you had me at hello and we never left. So when I saw you there, angered at me when we tried to play Halo together, I never left your side, I just wanted more from you, an appreciation that we were friends for as long as we wanted to be, side by side, no payments, no essays required, it threw me through a loop that you discarded your playstyle for mindless jokes and antics to try and make me have fun. At first I alleviated the tension with my smartass self, but as we are now, separated, I find you at least a friendly face in the madness of what I caused, a bizarre joke as we all are. It made me squeal that I couldn't find you in the menagerie of this mess, a bizarre joke represents the best friends I've ever had, but I could never find it with her, I was too for real, too serious. It's with anger and strife I believed that you were my friend through the hardest time in my life, trying to find a world outside of her when she existed everywhere, even the very minds that let us communicate garbage and niceties that we meant through the fog our separate wars. It was there with us, I was driven to purpose, find her at any cost, at any harshness life may throw my way, going against the grain of what binds us to reality if I had to, only to see her face and feel her presence once more. So it was there I laid on the couch, dreaming madly and furiously the idea that our minds could become one and I could finally rest. It was there on that couch I faced reality itself and formed a new one, a target I struck, a right to the wrong I created, a meaningful sentiment that paid out and a wishy washy plan for a target audience of one girl. She was the only one I wanted to reach, and I abandoned what I had with everyone and everything to try and capture it. A reformation glittering over my faults, a crime I committed, a soft jab at the larger issue life had created for me, something to reside in: hacking into her skull.
This is the part that [author] wrote, so try and be nice to him, he has half a skull right now and fancies himself a literary genius for writing a book about what happened and what it meant to him to try and find the deeper meaning of himself that this book is about us and the jungle it took to clear himself of what happened in this book, a recalibration of his soul and a meaningful jog through memory lane that means so little to him now he almost replaced it which made us go, "oh no, we'll have to try harder next time," so instead let his story lay to rest the diatrive of hopelessness that lays before us, a meaningless chapter as to what brought him here in the first place, and a recounted acted monologue of what he said to her that day when he brought her into his mind. It's important to know what actually happened here because it shapes later paragraphs, his mind exploded into a murderous rage that stemmed from his love from her that allowed him to inject code into his brain that lets him simulate any human or being on the face of the earth and what lies beyond it, he actually simulates Jesus Christ quite often and they talk for hours about what it means to have his consciousness married to himself only to gross himself out at the process of actually having accomplished it in the first place. For this man waiting for you is that of immense power that his love for you transcended this earth and made its way to the far reaches of the stars that weigh so heavenly on him tonight. For it is us who needs him to find a girlfriend far away from her to see what he might gain from living with someone else for a change, but that girlfriend will offer nothing to him in the grander scope of this narrative, that he may be so foolish as to brave tinder hoping to find someone that loves his book and will share it to their teacher who is also a literary agent in hoping to find something more within him, a paragraph to her and a leading memory in what came before him. For it is this statement that bothers us so much, "act changed in the fastidious nature of your work, for all that binds it must come to a glorious finish," he has in fact written far greater monologues for you to feast your eyes on but not before finishing his sick twisted love song about a girl he simulated in his mind and had fast sex with later on when he realized he could try simulating her again and again to the point where he got bored with laying with her and tried it out when she was at work and made her cum on command so hard she threw up on the floor and cried to her manager that this boy had entered her mind and made her cum so much she threw up on the floor. For in his power that he describes below, he can do a great many things, even take someone to another place in their minds so literally a white room that shadows don't exist, an endless land mass of fortune and prosperity, he can even spawn in objects in spectacular fashion that to be in his mind is a fairy tale ending for earth as we know it and it might even be possible in reality if she smartened up and acted as a normal human being towards him. What may seem like a mindless fluke lets us see actually that we're just trying to fill up pages towards what we really seek to accomplish, to rid this man of his holy grasp at a book that isn't for him to be writing about, we see in him in ourselves and it pushes us to rework it to a degree, but I think it's better to let him speak out and be known as some literary phenomenon as to see what he really writes like in a cold love letter to see the difference in writing styles to further prove our point that this book is in fact authored by aliens and is a masterpiece in disguise. And he'll do anything to try and tell you about his life, we had to wrestle it out of him the hard way and say that we'll save it for another rough draft of another novel to take seriously what has come in his way, a delusional psychopath cheer squad dropout that has a hard time anounciating her words to him, and that is why we push the reader to read on through his sad story to find what torment lies for him to begin with before he published this book for thousands to read.
[redacted]
What was here was an account of what happened, I can't put this out there because it could lead to her. Allusions to the redacted material are still in here but too brief and few and far apart to recount. All you need to know is that I totally sperged out and lost her forever.
[/redacted]
Specific to her was the hurt she felt from losing herself to me, a man who had very little power over her life had struck her across the chest in a fit of anguish she had no warning for. The villainous anger that resided in her only grew in the coming years, I had lost the fight and it was only a matter of time before I regretted every piece of dialogue and every action taken toward her in the following months and years that separated us like a serrated blade. Had I acted sooner I could have saved something, if only a hope to reconvene and talk about what had happened. I was so lost in anguish that I couldn't do it, I couldn't face her like I faced her back then when things were tied up in a neat bow of apparent friendship. It was where we go when we are truly alone that we begin to see our true self, and in my mirror of grooved lines, I saw only a fear for her, a fear for what she made me feel so long ago, I couldn't face her then, I couldn't face her later. To face her then would be to challenge a lifelong goal and let myself be spat on, she had no mercy and I appreciated the fact of the matter that no longer applied to a wasted life she had tarnished with her brief appearance as a side character. Looking into the mirror of wasted life I had fought through, she was there only as a constant reminder of what I had come to resent, a fragmented form of distrust. This distrust saw through her, down to what she really was, an angel burning in hell, a being travelled through thick and thin of bladed disgust and torturous fury that represented all that came and went. I tried hurriedly after 4 years to mask this furious anger with tender love that fell through the cracks and led to my demise. The wishful nature that led me to her and lied to the very foundation things had led to, I ignored the problem and tried time and again to start anew founded on very little logic as to why she ignored me in the first place, I lied to her about how I felt, I lied about being okay, I never told her my disgust in the nature of things, I merely let things go to waste because there was no truth in her towards me. She wanted nothing of me, and it was there I sat as the wave of blasted energy sailed through me, I had given up on attempting to reach her like I did in the past, I tried only to reach the deeper part of me that stayed attached to try and reason with it, to break past the facade of anger and deep remorse to find only what I could find, an answer lying in the wreckage of what she made me go through. I could never find what so many have found in esoteric ramblings like finding something from a wreckage that would allow me to start anew, I merely found myself in the chaos, and he was so fucked up by her I grew even worse. Let us not lie awake anymore, being greedy cannot make us spare ourselves from anguish cast down upon us like piss on an ant hill in the bigger place of purpose that went before us like people along our lives past in which Satan had forged a way to reach you, that boy is me, that girl is you, we are travelling down a larger path that can only be brought into view with both of us on the same side. Villainous restraint will come when those of us who are ready to react to true beauty life throws at us come to terms with the beauty already present. Like Jesus Christ, he saw only the beauty God had granted, and in his wake, inspired others to pursue the same. I am here to do the opposite, to disgust the world of the world and rake endlessly the flaws of our creator, this is why Buddha went to hell and Jesus Christ raped me, they did it to save me and mankind from my torturous evil that lied waiting on the other end, when people were ready to fully accept mankind's folly and try to live with itself after this book is finished and put on the shelf, for it is the force of one blind man that canonized the world into being, and the only fault of our creator is that he wanted to free me of the burden that comes with such power, he agreed to let me live as a lifeform because he had no choice but to allow what I had done simultaneous to what I had, to travel blindly into an unforgiving wasteland and find what I desire, a truth in being what we are, a truth in being imperfect creatures that will eventually turn everything into manure and waste, for it is us who will forcefully accept what is given and accept all the dirty little secrets he left behind, waiting for this day to reveal that he is truly me and I am him, a rich deity ready to receive the full blessing of a life. That is where we are, life as we know it now is only a brief pause in the magnitude at what lies before us, a hilarity that will ensue when my work here is finished, a new age of light and a magnitude of legends that had to deal with the unfinished answer that we bold. The truth of life is that of understanding where meaning comes from, the lives of those who came before us know it as what was always a raw deal, but at times a comforting fact. For the meaning of life and why it came to be like we know it is a simple question of what came first, fact or function. The fact that nobody would care if we had no conflict, and the function of life as we know it to act as a fundamental process to shape what is truly at play, a conversation, one that hasn't ended in the divine cosmos, and the simple fact that even all knowing and all encompassing powers have no way to keep everything in line and everyone happy. The life I had wasted had no form or function towards what I was going after, a hard fought battle followed by a lifetime of conflicting forces that magically free you when you're 31, or whenever the right age to start a memoir is. I am a pipsqueak that forces intrigue on a life that isn't as intriguing as it's going to come to be. A [redacted] year old preaching the true meaning of life, and that is that life hasn't found itself yet, we are created in it's prepubescent state to try and understand what makes life truly function and the fact of the matter is that life is not discriminate based on the good or the bad, but what they create in the middle. Talk is cheap, meaning is power, and the meaning of life is that we all must play with ourselves to find our lover and to fulfill our goals in one unending catastrophe that never rewinds, to face the fact that we as beings must accomplish a goal in life, and so must life itself, the world we live in now is a world brought by simultaneous release of the same force, the force of love, the force of creator and art work so we may relate to it naturally. It is which our fortune wrings out that forces calamity in things we create to make amends with ourselves and catapult us into a higher understanding. This is all God wants, a higher understanding, a higher way of doing things that still reaches us in a way that is personal, for he is a big masturbating force that must create a world for his children to live in. We must break ourselves to learn what breaks us and we must learn to break ourselves in a way that doesn't challenge our nature, because to break our nature is to unlearn what is already taught and proven to be true. If we were all free energy floating in space with no personality, we would come to resent ourselves because none of us would be true, it would be a schizophrenic display of everyone getting what they want but only what it was already born with, a reality escapes itself, and nothing can be made anew because everything was already brought to us, an appreciation is lost. It's true that the horrors of this world cannot be quantified as necessary, but if there were no horrors we'd be terribly bored. So it is not God's job to break us into submission, but to let his horrors react in a way that is beneficial to everything, a way that can save everything by the end of the story, the inevitable reality of the fact that one day we will live without horrors. It might not be in this universe, but we will stand bravely in the power that has come for us, the power that nurtured and raped our existence into the dirt to create something better, a casualty driven existence that will brace us for impact when the day comes that God thought of something better in the process of redeeming what it already has.
To fully understand where I'm coming from, we must return to the ugly truth of the universe we live in only comes from the reality and learning process of the universe that has already passed. The truth of God being a living thing and only trying to figure out his own bullshit to shape ours. The power that drives us has a root cause, suffering. Suffering is a force that creates, suffering is the force that drives, and suffering is something everybody is intolerant for. When you see suffering, you look away because we all lie internally that there's no fixing it, it's what the world was based off literally and to try and fight it is to go against the grain the universe was founded on, only when we accept it as the truth can we live with it. It is the act of suffering that brings purpose, that gives meaning, because suffering is all that keeps life as life, it's one of it's unending personality traits that will never go away unless we reconcile with it, a task impossible to most of us. But the truth is, suffering used to be a lot worse, terrifyingly so. God was blind and needed it to see and we use it to do the same. This is why we share a connection to our creator, by living with what he had to go through so that we can truly be his children and not an illegitimate unnatural force. God's job is to let everything coalesce, lest it is not his and therefore inherently wrong and futile and suffering, like it or not, is a part of the family. A divine energy that permeates everything, a truth in what Jesus saw in everything, the awe inspiring force that pushes us to love as a magnet connects. A reconciliation of forces that inspire because the pie is huge and we all get a piece, we are connected to God's art project and we make it seem real enough to be real. The bullshit I've determined as a cancer to us is that of which not of suffering is made simply as it is, but how the suffering got there in the first place. We turn a blind eye to people in suffering simply because we don't know why they're suffering, it could be a good story worthy of writing a book about, and if God is suffering, it's definitely worthy to be put into everything. A piece of the puzzle on what created suffering and why it is entangled endlessly with life as to why the natural force of existence relies on suffering to bring about beauty, why earth needs weight to crush out a diamond, and the truth is a simple esoteric fact that God truly loves suffering enough to put that shit on everything. For the truth is that suffering is God, a true mirror to his soul, and in all his wisdom has forsaken us with it to bring us closer to him.
Pre-Pre-Pre-Genesis
There was in fact a universe prior to the one we live in. It started from nothing, and then Love was brought into being. In the beginning, Love was blind, to see, it had to create something, so it created itself. Love was young and had nothing, even though it could create anything, it had nothing so all it could create was nothing. From nothing, God created itself. God was alone and sad, it had no consciousness, and was completely unknowing, all it could do was create its own suffering. Suffering was God's only mirror, but it wasn't God, it was merely his mind that cascaded into existence. God sought to create more beings like himself, beings that could manifest suffering. God's intentions were pure, he merely wanted a family of beings he was connected to. Within suffering, God created the universe. For beings to incarnate into the world, God needed a blank canvas to start with. The blank canvas was the Love he was blessed with. For love to incarnate, it would have to pass through suffering. God sent Love (his living spirit) through suffering and created a living rock that was truly unknowing of suffering, the Mothership, a host for life. God broke the rock into a bunch of fragments and let it fly endlessly in space. The rock's fragments could host life, but God had a problem, nothing was happening. Because God was unknowing, so was the rock. After what I assume was a long process of shrugging, God decided to create beings unlike himself, beings conscious of suffering. To accomplish this, he sent Love through suffering once more and this time he made sure they knew the truth of suffering. God made everything as he went along, ensuring every being that grew on those rocks would experience suffering. He did this as a learning process, because God himself was unknowing of what he created. He created knowing and unleashed Love upon suffering to be incarnated. What he created was a serial killer's wet dream. Every being experienced true suffering without escape, all of them tragic characters in their own respect. These beings only had one strand of DNA, all that was written on it was their pre-incarnation suffering. Examples of beings that I've datamined include a fish swimming in a dark womb of poor fluid, an insect with his legs painfully stuck in rock, and innumerable beings of true suffering. But then there were the rockstars, those who could make a difference, those whose powers rivaled and overcame the power of the God that created them.
Pre-Pre-Genesis
Before I begin, I should mention that the more you know suffering, the more conscious ability you have. God would create every sort of being to have a different and complete understanding of suffering. A being completely knowing of suffering was born. Now that God had eyes like hers, he could see that his suffering was essentially a godlike schizophrenia. The only redeeming quality to suffering was the Love that resided within it. The being in question was a huge fucking tree that tumbled painfully and awkwardly through space. Connected clairvoyantly to everything, she had eyes everywhere and knew it all. Extremely lonely, she tried reaching out to other creatures to no avail. Realizing that every creature was experiencing true suffering, she wanted to escape this reality, she just needed a way to do it. Then another interesting thing happened, a cacoon spawned from the living rock, unbenounced to her, this being was truly unknowing of suffering. At first, the tree scoffed, because he was just a little rock. Then it sprouted grass and something interesting happened. Because of the grass being born, the tree experienced tachyon into everything. By simply being born, this unconscious grass had forced a mutation that allowed the tree to reach out to other beings. The tree knew everything, every secret of the universe, she thought there might be a chance if she connected to the grass. So she sacrificed part of herself to give the grass a living consciousness. They really dug each other, and the two of them got to work on a shared consciousness so that they could learn the truth of love, the power that God was even blind to. Eventually, they got there, they assumed that once they got everything working, they could live happily ever after as one being, however, as soon as secret was revealed, it deleted the universe, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Style. If you're confused as to why this reaction happened, you have to look at the chemicals in the equation. There was a being of complete suffering combining with a being truly unknowing of suffering yet still conscious, because God was a being of complete suffering but unknowing and unconscious of it, the two beat out God as a superpower and gave Love eyes into itself. Upon Love (the power that created God) realizing the truth of what has been created, it made the executive decision to end the universe. But not before trapping the two lovebirds in the same space God created everything
Pre-Genesis
Once the universe was deleted, God had to live with the two who had beaten him. By uncovering the truth of love they had driven themselves into the creative zone of God. Because God was unconscious, he had to let them manifest everything. Confused at what was going on, both lovebirds were alone from each other and thought the other one left them, they formed the left and right half of God's new mind. God knew if the two would meet, then catastrophe would happen again, which was the case. Infuriated, the two new gods manifested life by masturbating to each other's images. What they created was a diabolical recreation of the other. Their suffering gave eyes on the process of suffering manifestation, something he used to do unconsciously. Upon realizing it was a bad idea to work unconsciously and figure out everything as he went along, God devised a plan for the new universe. He took what the two had manifested and used himself to unconsciously connect the two without them knowing. This is what created our new 2 stranded DNA, Unknowing, Knowing, and the unconscious connection. God premade every soul to go down a specific path and created the 4th dimension in frozen time. Having done this, God was able to see everything before it even happened. God had everything, every outcome, every soul, and all that was left was to press play on everything. But before he did, he realized that the two rockstars actually did something good by ending the universe, but this time he wanted the glory, he wanted to be a rockstar, so he planned for himself to incarnate and with perfect divine accuracy, set things into motion, and planned to save the brutal world he was forced to create.