In our bible there is a beginning, one borne from cosmic nothingness—a testament to human creation from the thrusts and dreams of our ancestors. The creation myth we all experience. I remember my birth. It’s here somewhere, swimming around in all this.
How I miss the darkness of before, when we were all noiseless, peaceful things. Free of worry and fingerprints and wrath, protected and fed inside the cocoon of our one, real god.