This is a part of 'project 110, going back and re-filling', writing is happening 8ish months after the date.
Must the grounds shake, every time I awake
To go to my bio-informatics class,
Must the Universe and all creation, wait for my decision
While I'm otherwise occupied, just living my own life?
I, the three-eyed one, the one with dreadlocks
Am I not greater than all the building blocks
That make up the Universe,
Greater than the sum of all of my parts?
Why then, must I
Micromanage it all?
Why must the ganas and the bhutas and pretas
Tremble when I toke out of a strong bowl or pipe
Or my words considered the last word, the end-all of the Universe
Even when I'm not always in the best of my senses?
If I am the one, and all, and I am everything,
What is it that gives me an independent separate meaning?
I, the lord of Animals, the herdsmen, the hunter,
For these ages, eons over eons I watched over them
Went down to live together, when they needed me the most
Now that they have hold of things, why might I not do it again?
Live like them, made of flesh and blood, earth and fire
Feel all the emotions of the mortal world, the pain and the fear
If I am the ultimate, the end, the end of end,
the nothingness beyond the nothing, the void that holds emptiness within
Then I must be able to do this,
To live among my people, to see them in happiness and pain
To celebrate their happiness and agonize over their sin
Be with them in happiness or in pain!
I must go, this is my time,
Be with those children of mine!
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