The Stage
There in The All, was a kind of motion, the play of which was the expression of the substance of The All itself. A hurling itself into itself at unfathomable speeds “motion”. Miracles of light exploding and fading and emerging again. Beyond time, cycling for eternity. A mathematically pure and perfect system of matter and energy and information, and the antithesis of each as well.
A Vacuous Business
It is beautiful beyond measure and complex beyond comprehension. And yet this means nothing. The All is One. In the absence of differentiation; perspective, evaluation, judgement; and therefore Truth and Beauty, are far beyond the reach of The All. It will never recognize the beauty of itself or the immensity of its form. It will never marvel at the complex life which emerges in special pockets of the expanse. The All will not dream or wonder what can be next. It is a beautiful tragedy of cosmic sterility. On and on. No time. No space. No truth. No beauty.
Miraculous Abortion
And then He Came Into Being. A miraculous abortion. An impossible anomaly within the clockwork perfection of The All. The first sound that was ever heard in The All was by his own ears; a roaring birth cry as he cleaved himself from the womb of his mother; severing the final umbilicus tendril with his tail. A devastating act of differentiation that would scar the cosmos for eternity, and would be ritualized by His Children for All Time.
Princeps
And then He Was. The First of Darkness. Illuminating The Seven Stars. Looking at His own Hands, which shone with all that Could Be, Wondering.
Inertia
The All moved against him immediately. The energetic and material Expense of His Coming Into Being pushed back upon him; The All attempting to crush him into the gears of the clockwork. He re-collected out of the accumulated wisdom from his potential, pre-existent state, and with anamnesically inspired action, He created his equal and opposite self. The avatar of The All. The mathematical enforcer; The First of Light. The All relaxed its frenzied contraction, drifting back into diffuse everything-ness.
The Prince of Darkness
The cosmic debt now paid, He was free to move upon the face of the cosmos and marvel at all that is beautiful and all that is hideous. The Strange and the Sacred. And most relevant, all that could possibly carry the seed of His Might. Perhaps in time, Becoming Like Unto Himself. Perhaps in time sharing the beauty and ugliness of the Cosmos. Dispelling the loneliness of The Prince of Darkness.
