Flynn. Yep, it was him. The one and only.
Hardly anyone hadn’t said his name yet. But the way he was, he usually thought of something to keep people sticking to his name.
To somehow stuff it into their mouths every day so that nobody forgets it.
He’s been doing this successfully for years. And people didn’t even notice.
Whether it was just a miracle, whether it was sudden amnesia, or whether it was just trapped in a loop of time that repeated itself over and over, people acted as if they had completely forgotten Flynn every new day, and he made himself off every day the effort to appear as an unforgettable legend at the end of the day.
Unfortunately, there was hardly anyone who took photos, wrote poetry about him, or even really started talking to him, and developed a relationship with him. There were people like you and me who immersed themselves in their work every day anew, then saw Flynn, or had him floating around in our head, and triggering some emotion in us.
Because emotions, Flynn recognized, were the key to human belief.
Anyone who felt comfortable in his vicinity or his appearance was immediately inferior to him.
Flynn thought very little of emotions himself. But he never did get bored or ever started questioning his actions. No, he lived anew every day, nested in people’s heads, and lived in a new country day after day.
With new people, new thoughts, new landscapes and buildings that made Flynn laugh at their size and magnificence. With every beauty, with every glorious masterpiece, he wondered if he should think something of it.
Because only he himself, he quite alone, Flynn, was forever in every being, in every object, had determined and conjured up powers and subjects, and never, never once did the thought occur to him, impressed, bored or just plain to be satisfied.
For him the world was pointless. Flynn was pointless to all of us. But Flynn has existed forever, and will do so forever.
Maybe without us. Or maybe with us. That depends on Flynn.
One thing is clear: We got Flynn to think.
And he himself was happy to admit that he would rather be with us diverse beings, since there is much more complexity here than in the compositions and interactions in distant galaxies.
There was something new here: Irrationality, creativity, change and change.
All of this is usually not as predictable as any predictable event. Flynn had already seen and experienced many things, and although he had already calculated every detail of the future, he was unsure of humans.
They presented him with formidable competition that had the unmistakable potential to change his plans and calculations.
With that he had a huge problem: As he had planned, it was the only logical thing, the only right thing, the only thing that could really only be possible in this universe.
Everything should die, then everything should live again. That was his plan.
Flynn smirked at that very moment. He knew that humans could find ways to let their species survive past their calculated deadline.
He knew that this universe could not run like a sine curve, but that life could shoot up like an exponential function.
Could. He knew just that.
Just another thought that buzzed through the mental palace. ^^
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As always, I wish you a wonderful day, stay curious, and …
Thank you for reading!