Micolus the Colossus

"Oh don't flatter yourself, you ignorant fool. These insects don't care about you."

He had lain there in the summer grass floating in an immaterial ocean when suddenly these words interrupted his playful mind. A few insects

had crept along his way and he had, playful as he was, contemplated what they might have thought of him. Gleeful images appeared in his

fantasies, where the insects considered him a grand and humble being - majestic even - whose wisdom was utterly beyond theirs; he thought so, for he knew that this was how he himself would have considered a grand being of equivalent might. And it was right there, as his ideal self served generous dictator to his accepting followers, that the powerful voice crushed the illusive glass, and reality turned into a dark and empty room. He thought for a while, walking to and fro in the room which he now had determined to be quite small, and then he answered the invisible one:

"I do not know who you are or where you have come from. Least of all do I know why you have sought me, but in this short period of miracles I have witnessed, you are the lesser. Do you mean to say that they would look at me with disgust for all which I and my race have done towards them? I really don't think that insects understand concepts such as pollution or industrialization. It seems to me that these insects would rather appreciate or perhaps fear the incredible might of my being as compared to theirs, does it not?"

His eyes had slowly started to regain some sight, and he could clearly discern a large sculpture of a face, gazing down upon him from the

ceiling. It spoke again, and he thought it more fearsome this time:

"Do you really expect these insects to pay attention to You? Do you think they even know of your existence as a complete and alive being? Do

you even think they comprehend any concept beyond their material world of primitive instinct? These beings, which your race has simply

chosen to classify as "alive", are not capable of grasping the concept of good or bad, nor are they able to fathom feelings such as "majestic" or "powerful", these ideas are exclusive to the human race - on this planet at least. You are perceived by them as a giant moving object, as large as their frame of vision allows you to be. And such is the irony of intellect; you, as an intelligent being, consider the primitive insect as having a part of your greatness, as being alive, while the insect remains completely ignorant of your vast reality, and sees you as even lower than itself. And similarly, does the modern man fail to see the might of an even larger congregation of the psyche - a society if you will - of the mind. You are nothing to the insects, as you are nothing to the world, and you must realize this for the process to begin."

"Are you my burning bush? My great revelation? Is this the message I should bring about to the world?"

"Associating me with any sort of deity is perhaps aesthetically delicious but far from the truth - your truth, at least. And again, don't

flatter yourself; your revelation isn't at all prophetic, for prophecies, are one sided."

"Why else have you then come to me, if not to channel your will to bring about truth among the people?"

"Don't be so dramatic, I came because you decided that I would. I came because you created me. I am but the glimpse of the eternal in your

otherwise material mind. But I am also the very Satanic force you need in order to act and create. I am everything, yet only a fraction of

your mind."

**

The reality which I was now beginning to doubt came rushing back to me. I was totally baked out of my mind, and the guys were sitting there

as if nothing had happened.

.

"Oh don't flatter yourself, you ignorant fool. These insects don't care about you."

.

He had lain there in the summer grass floating in an immaterial ocean when suddenly these words interrupted his playful mind. A few insects had crept along his way and he had, playful as he was, contemplated what they might have thought of him. Gleeful images appeared in his fantasies, where the insects considered him a grand and humble being - majestic even - whose wisdom was utterly beyond theirs; he thought so, for he knew that this was how he himself would have considered a grand being of equivalent might. And it was right there, as his ideal self served generous dictator to his accepting followers, that the powerful voice crushed the illusive glass, and reality turned into a dark and empty room. He thought for a while, walking to and fro in the room which he now had determined to be quite small, and then he answered the invisible one:

.

"I do not know who you are or where you have come from. Least of all do I know why you have sought me, but in this short period of miracles I have witnessed, you are the lesser. Do you mean to say that they would look at me with disgust for all which I and my race have done towards them? I really don't think that insects understand concepts such as pollution or industrialization. It seems to me that these insects would rather appreciate or perhaps fear the incredible might of my being as compared to theirs, does it not?"

.

His eyes had slowly started to regain some sight, and he could clearly discern a large sculpture of a face, gazing down upon him from the ceiling. It spoke again, and he thought it more fearsome this time:

.

"Do you really expect these insects to pay attention to You? Do you think they even know of your existence as a complete and alive being? Do you even think they comprehend any concept beyond their material world of primitive instinct? These beings, which your race has simply chosen to classify as "alive", are not capable of grasping the concept of good or bad, nor are they able to fathom feelings such as "majestic" or "powerful", these ideas are exclusive to the human race - on this planet at least. You are perceived by them as a giant moving object, as large as their frame of vision allows you to be. And such is the irony of intellect; you, as an intelligent being, consider the primitive insect as having a part of your greatness, as being alive, while the insect remains completely ignorant of your vast reality, and sees you as even lower than itself. And similarly, does the modern man fail to see the might of an even larger congregation of the psyche - a society if you will - of the mind. You are nothing to the insects, as you are nothing to the world, and you must realize this for the process to begin."

.

"Are you my burning bush? My great revelation? Is this the message I should bring about to the world?"

.

"Associating me with any sort of deity is perhaps aesthetically delicious but far from the truth - your truth, at least. And again, don't flatter yourself; your revelation isn't at all prophetic, for prophecies, are one sided."

.

"Why else have you then come to me, if not to channel your will to bring about truth among the people?"

.

"Don't be so dramatic, I came because you decided that I would. I came because you created me. I am but the glimpse of the eternal in your otherwise material mind. But I am also the very Satanic force you need in order to act and create. I am everything, yet only a fraction of your mind."

.

**

.

The reality which I was now beginning to doubt came rushing back to me. I was totally baked out of my mind, and the guys were sitting there as if nothing had happened.

.

(The dots are ridiculous but necessary because the combination between my computer and this shitty site is horrible)