JUDGEMENT

Eight silhouettes, vaguely resembling the shapes of humans, hover before you. The Grand. The ones who gave birth to the galaxies, the solar systems, but not the planets. No, the planets were born from their bastard sons, the moons. They wished to create their own life. They failed, just like their parents before them, and created you. You, your friends, your family, and everyone you know.

Or did they fail? The moons don’t think so. They see beauty in you, in your freedom, in your imperfection. The Grand long abandoned sentient life when they created the moons. They prefer the trees, the grass, and the microscopic organisms that favor the oceans. All of these dried up on every planet but yours. They refuse to see the obvious reason behind it. You are why Earth still lives. You are killing it, yet keeping it alive. You are the balance that makes life interesting. What would the world be if there were simply trees and deer? Beautiful? Perhaps, but who would be able to say so? You created the concept of beauty. It is something you fight over, but only because you see how worthwhile it is. Without beauty, love, joy, sadness, and righteous anger, what would the world be? Simply the circle of life. Sentience is magical. It’s what makes you special. You have the choice to help or destroy, to be good, evil, or anything in between. Man, woman, and the colorful spectrum that exists between those, that is all your choice.

But what of the rigid binaries you create? What of greed and murder and rape? What of the evils you and your ilk do? The Grand bring up solid questions, but you have a rebuttal. Those things, the things we detest, are merely left over from darker times; times before beauty. From the moment the first Neanderthal made the first hieroglyph on a cave wall, evolution began. Not evolution of the body, but of the mind and of the soul. From then on, you have been given infinite choice. Choice with which your kind is still coming to terms with even all these thousands of years later. You have infinite time to make infinite choice, but you do not all realize this, and you do not all realize that is okay. Indeed, the moons were more successful than even they could have predicted.

You look into the future and see a true utopia; a world where everyone is free to be who they wish to be. It is harmonious chaos, and you weep. You weep because it is glorious, but also because it is so far away. You know you will never experience it, but you also know that, in the grand cosmic timeline, it will be a reality very soon.

The Grand see this future as well. All of them are disgusted by it. All but one and, as we know, change starts with at least one.

“My fellow Grand,” it says, gesturing to its siblings, “has our experiment not succeeded? Have we not created life? These beings will surpass us. They are truly better than us in all ways but in power. But truly, what does our power mean?”

“We can create realities!” one shouts.

“Can they not as well? Are their perceptions not as real as ours, if not more so? They have the power to create life and entire worlds. Truly, they are our evolution, and we should respect that. We should let them grow, learn, flourish.”

Some are convinced, but others aren’t. You watch helplessly as these higher lifeforms debate your fate. Are they higher? You let your defender’s words sink in, and you realize the power you truly hold. You and your fellow man are the very creators you worship. God is not dead, He has simply lived within you this whole time. You are God, and God is you. The Grand are finished speaking and turn their attention to you.

“You may continue living. Spread your beauty throughout the universe, and create a better tomorrow.”

A light of colors you couldn’t previously comprehend flashes before you, and you stand in a garden. The flowers stand tall, changing colors every second, until they settle on one they like. Each flower chooses a different color, and some even change shape. That better tomorrow is closer than you think.

The piece used as the featured image is “Untitled (Amategram)” by Ana Mendieta.