– Have you ever dreamed of God? Not any kind of awake rationalization, but real dreaming: have you ever dreamed of God? Like he would come to you, walking, floating, or both, then look into your eyes, talk to you, or even touch your shoulder with two fingers, maybe more. He would lay his elderly eyes upon your counsciousness and warm your soul to the bones. Well, I have not. But that does not mean we cannot spend a little time and try to meet our maker – on the good sense of the expression. No, why should we wait until our subcounsciousness stop elluding our favorite divine representation away? Let’s heat the things up a lil’ bit, shall we? That’s why I would like to invite now to come here to the stage someone even more important than Lula or Obama, the one and omnious, GOD!
– Thank you very much, boy, is always good to come here. Your imagination is so full of strange things that I cannot keep me from feeling like home. Right now I just passed through some sort of chess game between a bored knight and a platypus wearing a hat. You should invite me over more often!
– Aw, Gawd, now don’t be silly. Feel free to stop by anytime. My mind surely is no strange land for you. One of the two options: If you are God, nothing can be hidden from you. If you are my imagination, you’re just talking to yourself. So, I invited you here tonight to speak to your audience about anything, whatever comes to your mind. You can even complain about me, if you want to. The floor is yours, comrade, speak the echoes of eternity!
– Well, sorry to break your mojo, but don’t you think it would be a little too megalomaniac, to suppose one can grasp whatever is in God’s mind?
– Au contraire, my heavenly friend. You certainly would agree with me when I say that there is nothing afar from You, I mean, God. If God would create anything using anything that is away from him, that would mean he would be limited, hence not so godlike at all. So, in order to God to be so divine I must, intrinsically, be made entirely of things enclosed in God. The Kabballah believes that the whole universe is made of infinite combinatinos of the letters that compose the true name of God. I may be made of two or three letters, but I am so entirely made of god as any pond, house or horse. Everything that is, is because it is divine. If I talk about God I shouldn’t be thinking on him as an employer, but more like a cousin.
– So I am your cousin?
– No, you are my imagination going places, maybe remarkably resembling the sense of humor of one of my cousins, but you are also me, and you are God, in a certain way.
– You seem pretty ok with the fact that you’re having a debate with yourself. Many people would see it as a strong sing of dementia.
– You are truly wise. So, Almighty, what would you like to tell us, mortals? Come on, this time there is no veil or prophet, it’s just you and your people. What would you like us to know?
– I don’t know, my boy, really. Wait a second before burning all those dogmas about God’s infinite wisdom. it is just that I cannot, at this point, think of anything valuable to say. The things is, I have tried to say different things throughout humankind’s journey, but it always backfires. If I tell people to be patient, they rot, useless, incapable of acting under they sole will. If I tell them to conquer and spread, they’ll probably start screaming around and go burning some other folk’s houses for no good reason. Sometimes I think that you guys simple doesn’t have what it takes, you know?
– Alas, you have my sympathy. And my respect, somehow. But we’ll talk about this later. Now I would like you to please expand on this subject: You said that sometimes you think that we don’t have what it takes. For what?
– To exist, simply as that. Existence is far more than a simple state, its an action, a decision. You choose to exist every second, or you would disappear into hot air, just like that.
– I’ve never seen anyone turn into hot air.
– That’s because you’re not god, child. That happens all the time. But, as I was saying, sometimes it really gets me worried. Because I took the effort to show myself in different colors and shapes, times and locations, everywhere, every time, just to you, all of you, know that you have a bond. That you’re like me, existing, and is up to you to forge some meaning out of your lives. But you chose the completely opposite interpretation: That you are all different, and for some reason live in different worlds. Culture, gene pool, call it as you wish, but the thing is that you people just can’t withstand the fact that you’re just one.
– What do you mean?
– I enjoy thinking of myself as an artist. Good artists are those who are good in describing things. Not only in words, but in colors, gestures. Anything that can be used to make you relate to that thing, to feel that you have something in common. Let’s suppose you’re staring at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel-
– Nice pic, by the way.
– Thanks, its my best angle. Anyway, assume you’re there, watching that great piece of work. What do you think you have in common with that?
– I don’t know, probably the man trying to reach for God. I am right here, trying to reach you. By the way, since we’re here and I am not sure this moment will ever happen again, would you please touch my finger?
*fingers connect, more applause*
– That’s just rad. Thank you, God, that’s one thing I didn’t suppose I would do before I die.
– Focus, my boy. When you look at Adam – who is also a really nice guy, the first, for that matter, you totally should invite him over too – and he is pointing at me, you feel that you could also have any sort of connection with the misterious, the divine. But you don’t even need to identify the angels and characters: just the simple glimpse of the colors and strokes is enough to make you remember the color of your car, your building, your dog. The whole setting is a box of memories, things that will enclose you and make you feel a part of something. Every piece of art is just like that. Some words that are familiar to you, verses and melodies that build anticipation, anything goes. Even the mesmerizing surprise of dealing with something you do not understand. All of this exists to throw a harpoon of meaning straight to your heart. And the best artists aren’t those who throw the most complex messages, but those who can be universally understood. Those who can be deemed familiar by a vegetables seller in Cyprus and a sweet-looking girl from Oklahoma. He can make you see that you’re the same.
– Do you picture yourself as a good artist?
– I’m not sure about that, for the reason I have just explained. While you guys have been expressing your independence and liberties, your free will – that truly exists, albeit in a rather complicated dimension – you tend to over-emphasize the importance of difference. It’s cool to be different, but really? Do you guys really believe that life is meant to be lived by contrast? To live by not living, by not choosing, by not befriending, by not accepting, by not knowing? Life should never be seen in passive mode. You are you, and you are not other boy, but you are worthy just because you are. You are, that’s the simplest and toughest lesson to teach. And hell is better to be along some other people.
– So the whole thing is some sort of social experiment?
– Remember when I told earlier on that sometimes I ponder if you guys really have what it takes? Well, I think that my greatest dream would come true the day you would be fully able to understand me, my boy. But not just that, I would love to have you in my shoes. If you could see what I have seen, would know how beautiful people can be. And you would rejoice to see them, even when they’re just alright. It would break your heart to see how good people rot and turn into egohistic maniacs, afraid of their shadows, living a life whose sole purpose is to survive. That’s nonsense. The purpose is exactly everything else, all the meaning you can fit into it. It is not the walk of life, but how you choose to walk today. Running/Jumping squares? Doing the Ministry of Silly Walks? And if you could see this, if you could understand me, probably you would start seeing me everywhere, anywhere. Not just inside your eccentric head. Imagine your life as some sort of training session. What comes after is the real deal, you will be a God, create and raise your children with hope. Sometimes they’ll make you happy, sometimes they’ll make you sad. But you’ll love them with all the kindness in your heart.
– Sometimes I just think there is not enough kindness.
– Where, in you? In the whole world?
– Anywhere. Kindness is something that saves us, and it’s never too much. I don’t want to give in those useless rants on oh-my-god-this-world-sucks. And I wouldn’t like to start writing books on self-help, saying things like “be good to others”, as simple words would change everything.
– I wrote several books with that message, my boy, and I’m not sure if the message was ever delivered. But life was always like this, hopes and surprises, coming and going. Always adding new verses to the poetry, good or bad. It’s always you reading the poetry, anyway.
– I really enjoyed our meeting, God. You should stop by more frequently. You’re far more human than I thought.
– That’s because I am a human idea, child. I will always be a representation of your hopes. And if you’re kind enough, you’ll be seeing me anywhere.