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Allowed God to govern the universe.


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doubt as to the prospect of universal edict, it must have deserted him at that juncture. "Somethings are truly remarkable," he commented, almost defeated. I explained gesticulate, that things aren't particularly remarkable regardless of how intricate we perceive them: "Things just are!" I gestured.

It might seem somehow stoic to perceive such milestones in this manner, but we must remember our universe just is. To perceive or offer excitement based on discovery is to remove, or reduce our own status amongst it. We mustn't make events more superior to the author, architect or inventor. He suggested his resolve not quite as salient as mine.

"You composed time, then removed it," he uttered, as if expecting me to expand upon his words. "You reinvented stars, made it possible for space travel, time travel and paved the way for god's entry into the universe, and then allowed God to govern the universe...."

"Maybe I am god!" I mocked flippantly.

"You're not serious....?"

"You miss the point." I elaborated: "Any belief is only ever in the individuals interpretation. Anyone can be what they want to be, go anywhere they choose, become the conqueror of worlds or the saviour of species. It makes no difference whether it's tangible or not. The necessity to reach out and embrace it is merely an achilles heel, designed by humans to win favour with their peers. Overcome this crippling disease, and anyone may go anywhere at any time." Or at least that is my belief.

Basically the point I made was life wasn't particularly about proving what's right or wrong. I said, I suppose because he had exhausted so much time making this journey, he must be versed in the laws of physics, quantum mechanics or...

"Journalism..." he blurted.

He seemed taken aback by his interjection. He said earlier he shouldn't tell me anything, but that slip gave the game away. Interviewing subjects from the past. What a novel idea. Anything for ratings, eh. I continued.

The point I wished to make is it's all irrelevant. If our universe is preordained, we go nowhere 'cos there isn't anywhere to go, any event, however profound means nothing on universal terms. If I thought that might make an impression on my host, I was mistaken. He still seemed unimpressed that someone with such a strong set of universal theories, could remain so uninterested in their eventual outcome. Yet I think he seemed to forget the pressure I was still under at this point. I had worked trojan like for the past twenty years, suffered the indignity and ridicule of friends and colleagues, fought the establishment, and subjected myself to the hostility of others, whom still to this day I don't know, who sought to either prohibit, or discredit my work. And I still hadn't written this novel.

Cindy said I could hit a nervous breakdown if I didn't slow down. I was exhausted, suffered sleep deprivation and truly longed this whole gruelling exercise to be over and done with.

Yet I also knew that wasn't realistic in this media driven society: I had web sites to build, papers and magazine to keep happy, and an every hungry multi-media tv and radio clique to appease. With these universal theories came solace, in the sense I no longer needed to punish myself mentally. But on the flip side, a new set of pressures was about to emerge.

And I didn't know if I wanted to deal with them. Yet obviously, as I was talking to someone from the future, maybe even a relative, I understood I must undertake the publicity that comes from it.

"You're not even a bit excited?" He prompted.

"I'm tired," I replied, with as much honesty as I could muster.

But there was one nagging question that ate away at me: Why they had sought David, not me. It seemed contrived, almost as though it made the rest of the story messy. I didn't like loose ends. I liked things perfect, neat and tidy and explained fully.

So I asked him directly. And before he offered his reticent reply about a non information policy, I warned him, if I didn't get the answer to that question, this whole interview finished; abruptly! He pondered my proposal, then offered explanation, but preceded it with a question, almost as if I had to solve the enigma; he'd punctuate it at the appropriate times.

"Where do you live, Mr. Crowley?"



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Below is a list of chapters for the Metaphysics Anthology. The book itself is designed as abit of fun! One man thinking out loud. You should not see it as science, merely enjoy the imagination of the human mind in full swing.

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