Saturday, February 27, 2010

Type 2 god

There are two types of daydreams, according to me.
There are the ones that you force yourself to imagine -- the ones where you have to tell yourself the scenario and your mind wanders from there.
And then there are the dreams that come out of seemingly nowhere -- that are so distantly related to something you're looking at, smelling, or hearing. You don't know how you came up with it, or why it means so much to you, until you think about it more.

In this case, I had the second type of daydream while I was reading my textbook in preparation for my Enviro midterm next Tuesday.
I ended up writing what I saw in my mind. And then I hid the piece of paper in my book.

dreamt about a god who didn't know what
waves sounded like. wanted to know what
it's like to be us; wanted to know what
we see, hear, feel, smell; to know what
the differences are, if any; know what
life is like, living small; what
limits infinity.

I guess I should say I was currently reading about the different types of energy that we could use to be more sustainable -- solar energy, wind energy...water energy. There's a type of water energy that uses waves.
I got caught up in the idea of seeing us as little dots fiddling around with massive waves, our little ears being filled with the roaring ocean while all the whales glide along beneath the surface, miles away from us. Our little machines and other inventions, trying to make up for our own mistakes. There are sounds all around us, even the high-pitched humming of electricity that makes true silence seem odd and unfamiliar. Our ears pop in silence, and we feel uncomfortable.

What does God hear?

I imagined a god sitting in the dark, using his fingers to start the waves we see today, but hearing nothing -- he's too big.

And while we were curious to know what it's like to be a god, the god wanted to know what it's like to be our size. He wanted to know what he's missing out on, and why we make such silly mistakes. He could fix it, but that would just make us lazy, and we would never learn for ourselves. Children.

He wondered why he didn't know what it's like to be us, why he didn't know what waves sounded like, and why he wondered anything.
Shouldn't he know?
Apparently, he wasn't a god, he told himself. Because something limited what he thought was infinite wisdom.

I wrote it down, hid it for a while, and stopped thinking about it. I went back to studying.
It was just a thought.

1 comment:

  1. This was an exciting dream. You are full of deep thoughts and I love hearing them; they get me thinking deep thoughts of my own.


    Every so often, I become aware of the high-pitched humming, and then I cannot stop hearing it for ages.

    It is a good thing I'm reading this just before getting ready for bed or I'd end up spending hours with The Hum.