It’s All A Mess.

I’m writing a book.

I’m creating this world.

It’s full of brilliant and bad people. People who kill and cry and people who smile and die a little inside. It’s full of people you’d pass on the street and people who’d scare the ever living life out of you. And it makes me wonder...

Is my world out there somewhere? Am I a god to those people? I’ve made them. I’ve given them all history and gods and names and stories.

Do they know I’m here? I don’t know everything that happens in their world it’s much too big. But I care. I wonder if they think I’ve abandoned them? Do they think that I don’t exist? The gods I’ve birthed to guide them are the ones who came first? Do they believe in any of it at all?

Is there someone writing a book about the world I’m in? Is that why it’s so strange sometimes and the craziest things happen? Is there someone in my world birthing another one as we speak? Will we ever actually know?