God
God
I stopped believing in God and everything became depressingly real
I forgot the single most fundamental thing I feel
That I am conscious before all else I do
Infinity's too big for atheism to be true
Except at the level above God
Before that One Creator split into all the smaller ones
After that one finishes experiencing all that It can be
The I exploring Pi in fractal eternity
Past the end
Under the beginning,
The dot without dimension, form or consciousness
Without even the idea of itself as a shape
The idea of idea-less-ness, with noone to think it
The thought can't be thunk; there's no way to link it
From the previous thought, because that was about something
As Operation Ivy taught us, all we know is that we don't know nuthin'
Let's move outwards a level, from the impossibly absolute zero
I'm not talking about Yahweh, although he's a lotta folk's hero
The first thing to think, the thing that thinks all of us
Consciousness itself, sensing itself in every direction
In a multidimensional circle
Looking back at Itself, Ourself, I's self
I stared into I's reflection, trying out all I's faces
I found I could contain universes of worlds in I's projected imagination
I quantumly tried out all possibility
The ones that made sense happened with a higher probability
A singular aspect of I forgot that I was not;
The part that got to see the reflection
I, Lucifer, the bringer of Light, the opposite to the centre
The belief in the “real”, worship of material
Within the vesica piscis illusion
I, Yahweh happened when I began to talk,
The original sound'n'light wave
I AM, I AM, IAM
Manifest as vibration
Every planck frame gliding between instants
Every dot of space travelling the planck distance
I, Time, the line, the journey from the edge
To the centre, from the centre to the edge,
The movement from dot to dot,
The division of the Yin and Yang
But the line is actually a circle,
It's just perpendicular to the angle I see it from
Because time goes round and round and round
In moments that go round and round and round
In every possible length of round, of round
The universe loops infinitely
This aeon loops infinitely
This year loops infinitely
This week loops infinitely
This minute loops infinitely
This second loops infinitely
This moment loops infinitely
This instant loops infinitely
But that doesn't make such a good story
So I send little snakes of I out into Akasha
To guzzle up and hold on to the sensation in moments
Building bodies out of memories
Forming identities from how we tell our stories
I forget so I can remember but I forget to remember
And the world has all I need for a while