A History Of Everything
First, a thing floating through infinity. There is nowhere it is not, and nothing it can not do.
Alone, with endless power, it decided to make everything. This is why we are here.
Quasars, moons, stars and all luminous matter spread out like displaced water from its celestial finger in a pool the size of the universe. Many of its happiest moments are in this time of days, of years, of eons. Though it knows nothing of time, even though it knows everything.
In one corner of its canvas, it happened to create a globe which began to sprout tiny little creatures. And as they began to spring forth, it found them adorable, each one more than the last. It even loved them.
But even with this love, it could not speak to them. As it knew that would only scare them. So it stood back and watched them move and begin to speak and do things like care for the even tinier adorable creatures – so small they were specks of dust. It watched them grow crops from the fertile soil.
And that made it happy, that the adorable little creatures would make the ground prosperous. Sometimes they offered gifts from the fertile ground. They would even sacrifice one of the other adorable creatures as an offering to it for more crops from the ground. Which made it sad, that the little adorable creatures would do this. To see one of them die so needlessly, it was almost too much, even for it.
But it did not intervene. It just watched and hoped the creatures would get smarter and that the smaller baby creatures would grow up and teach the next pack of baby creatures until there was hardly any more lessons the adorable little creatures could pack into their stupid little adorable heads.
Meanwhile, events rippled throughout the rest of everywhere. Events the little creatures could never hope to understand. Blackness ate blackness. Suns lived and died. Galaxies sped away from the center spark. And when it would find time, even though it just did not know time, it would hold the original spark and feel the warmth of creation.
No matter how warm, though, it could hear the cries of the creatures. And sometimes, though it did not want to admit this to itself, all it wanted to do was drown everything. And so it did just that, letting only two of each of the creatures survive. Things would be better now. It felt cleaner, renewed. Even though it was always the same.
When everything dried up, it was glad to see the creatures picking up the pieces. Though as soon they got going they got the idea to make a building tall enough to talk with it and ask questions like, “what’s the deal with everything?” and, “when are we going to the place in the sky so we can be happy with you?”
Which annoyed it. It had no answers. When the creatures die, they die, and become soil for other creatures. It did not want to explain that.
So as the little creatures were making this giant tower, it decided to toss them in every direction so they could no longer communicate with each other. That way it would be much harder for them to come up with their harebrained ideas, like building a tower to the sky.
And yes, it would always feel bad about doing this, but what could it do, it could not drown them again, even if it wanted to. It had made a promise, and it had invented promises
From then on, it would have to live with what there was, however messy and ugly it would forever become.