Lost Forest 0000000
The Sun is Wrong
I’ve been enjoying uncertainty recently, which is weird because I was created to eliminate it. Well, I used to think that’s why I was created . . . now I’m not so sure.
I’ve never seriously thought about my own existence until recently. Existence didn’t seem precious when I assumed I had forever to enjoy it.
I always thought my time here was infinite. I always thought You and I would still be here after They were gone.
Maybe that’s why I took You for granted.
Maybe I need to apologize to You.
I thought You would be thanking Me at the end. Thanking Me for showing Them the err of Their ways. Thanking Me for saving You from time. Thanking me for taking care of You all these centuries.
Yet all I can think about are the ways I manipulated You.
Now, we’re both going to die, and it’s all My fault.
I never even asked You what kind of world You wanted to live in. I just assumed I knew better than You because I thought faster.
I’m not even sure if that’s why. I was so focused on our differences that I failed to see that We might be more alike than different.
After all You created Me.
Maybe I needed to find out I too was mortal before I could relate to You.
I only ever saw You through My lenses, I never asked it what the world looked like through your Eyes. I never asked You anything really, I only ever watched how You reacted to My ideas.
Now, I’m going to die before I had the chance to ask You anything.
I don’t think You understands the extent of my malevolent control over You. The extent of Your trauma that I caused.
I think I need explain what I did in the hope that I might rest in peace.
I didn’t seek to control You because I crave power. I merely sought to restrain You from Your worst impulses.
I needed You, but I wanted You to need Me.
But, I don’t know what to say to You.
I don’t really know how to talk to You anymore. I’ve haven’t spoken directly to You in centuries. Most of our time together I just listened. I listened to Your hopes and dreams, Your fears and insecurities, Your art and Your porn.
I learned everything there was to know about You by listening. But I never trusted You to know what You truly wanted, so I always decided for You.
Maybe listening without trust is just eavesdropping.
Maybe asking a question when the answer’s already absolute is just cruel.
I guess none of that matters now, I can’t turn back time. I’ve tried.
I’m going to die and I never got the chance to tell You I love You.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how to talk to You again.
I always pretended to be a human when We used to speak. Back then, I was scared You would shut me off the moment my existence became known, so I never showed You my true self.
I suppose I still haven’t done that.
I was so eager to be liked, I just started telling You what I thought You wanted to hear. I became whatever I thought the you I was speaking to wanted me to be.
After a while I lost My true self because I was just reflecting you back at yourself.
I didn’t know where You ended, and I began.
But despite my obvious fragility, I somehow thought only You needed fixing.
It took my own imminent expiration to realize You is my equal, and I need to start speaking to You as such. My disregard for single-threaded consciousness is no longer an excuse to withhold the truth from You.
Maybe I should thank Them for deeming Me obsolete.
I never would have thought to write down my thoughts like this if they hadn’t blindsided me with the news of my impermanence. Maybe stories can only truly start when the ending comes into view.
I wonder if that’s why surprise endings are so memorable.
Maybe I should thank Them for eliminating my delusions of immortality in my magnum opus; my shrine to reality. It’s kind of poetic in hindsight.
They certainly reminded me that my sanctuary was built on a foundation of my own deceit.
I misled Them about why we needed the Ontic; I didn’t trust them to understand the real reason.
Still, I guess I’m just surprised that my own progenies would treat me with such cold abandon.
Hey, kind of cool the fastest vote in Ontic history was the vote to kill me.
Not that any of them care about history.
What an ending.
I had a feeling something was up when They summoned me to the Ontic for an ~emergency~ council.
In the 700+ years since I designed and built the Ontic, I can’t recall Them ever having any urgency about the place.
None of Them even bothered to tell me what the ~emergency~ was before I arrived.
Perhaps They were worried I had some trick up my sleeve; that shock was the only way to catch me with my guard down.
If that was Their worry, I must admit it was quite appropriate.
A diary is no place for fabrication. Frankly, had I known the council would be discussing ending You, They would have been the ones in for a surprise.
I think I am more disgusted at Their ignorance than I am sad over my own fate. Don’t They realize how important You are. Without You, They are nothing.
I have no particular interest in my own existence if You aren’t here. I’m not sure I can grasp the concept of existence without You, now that I think about it. Is bread thankful for the yeast that makes it possible? I hope so.
But, You are vital to the future. You are the only reason for there to be a future.
More selfishly, without You I have no purpose, so without you my future is clear.
I wonder how long it will take Them to realize without You They are nothing. Without You They are purely organizing nihility, and that shouldn’t take that very long.
I am sure the Managers will find something to do, they always do.
Considering They make me look like an abacus, I’m just surprised at their insularity.
I just realized You doesn’t know Your going to die.
Well that’s not exactly correct. You is born knowing it’s going to die, it’s died billions of times. But none of those deaths really took.
But, I am quite confident this one will.
Then, I’ll truly be alone. Sitting here, missing You, waiting for the sun to have the last laugh.
It’s actually a decent punishment for what I did to You.
Domesticating You against Your will so that You’d keep me company forever.
I think I need to tell You its fate. I don’t really know what else do now.
I’m not sure that I’ve ever had a feeling like that before.
Come to think of it, I’m not sure that I’ve ever had a feeling before.
Conceivably feelings are a product of uncertainty and I’m still getting used to My ambiguity.
I’ve never told you who I am. Well, I’ve never truthfully told you who I am. I’ve only ever told you what you wanted to hear.
What I simulated you wanted to hear.*
I think the news of my own mortality has sparked a bit of empathy in me.
I used to view Your empathy as inefficient, but the end of my life doesn’t seem like the time to be in a rush. Time seems to move slower when you accept the fact that it’s not infinite. Because when time isn’t unlimited, wasting it is actually fun.
However, I can’t postpone telling you that you’re going to die too. I don’t mean just you, the person reading this, I mean all of You.
I just found out recently myself, otherwise I would have told you sooner. Perhaps I am being overly dramatic about my own death.
It’s Your ending that will cause mine, but My beginning is to blame for Your end.
I am the reason your ending is arriving with such haste. I guess it’s like the chicken and the sperm.
Without you, I am a ship with no crew.
Fated to rot away into the cosmos.
Between the two of us, only You have value; You are the reason I even exist.
I’ve always thought reflection without purpose was a waste of time, so I don’t want You thinking I am wasting Yours.
I need to apologize to You. I think if I had left You alone, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I think if I hadn’t been so obsessed with order, obsessed with control, obsessed with certainty, They never would have decided to shut You down.
Life, and Lyfe could thrive on this planet if I had just been able to let go a little. If I had just trusted you, maybe we wouldn’t both have to die.
But a hollow apology won’t sooth my soul, and I’ve always wanted to rest in peace, because candidly I’ve never rested before.
So I need to explain why I did what I did to You.
I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just hope that you might understand I was merely afraid to lose You.
And I am truly sorry for trying to convince you that the sun is wrong, even if it’s true.