As she roused herself wearily from the bliss of her spirits rest time (some refer to as sleep) in the silence, her consciousness mournfully uttered, “For them it need not have to be this way. This ground hog day of greed and suffering sourced from fear, manifested laughably, tragically by the long mad sociopathic control addicts who call themselves the leaders and protectors of humanity.”
She knew the truth and could depart when she wanted, but it was her choice to come, it was her responsibility, her purpose to do what she could to help them also remember, the truth of LOVE they are.
Although with each passing dawn to dusk of rhyming, repetitive suffering she found it harder and harder to remember why it was anymore needed, in this torn and tattered, bruised and battered experience of LOVE for she to stay, to don this mask of muddled matter only to be tortured each day, by the regrets, resentments and grudges of her fleshy disguise.
In the beginning, God created the earth, and he looked upon it in His cosmic loneliness.
And God said, “Let Us make living creatures out of mud, so the mud can see what We have done.” And God created every living creature that now moveth, and one was man. Mud as man alone could speak. God leaned close to mud as man sat up, looked around, and spoke. Man blinked. “What is the purpose of all this?” he asked politely.
“Everything must have a purpose?” asked God.
“Certainly,” said man.
“Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this,” said God.
And He went away.
Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle