October 7, 2011
The one thing I never cease to be.
Let’s take a look through my eyes, shall we? And I apologise in advance if this seems overly geeky or complicated, perhaps often sentimental or melodramatic.
Right now, I’m at university. I’m running around doing a lot of things, meeting a bunch of people, and attempting to outwit those with the most basic of wits to get things running properly for once, in the hopes of getting a degree, followed by a home and job to keep me clothed, fed, and generally healthy for the rest of my days.
Beyond that, I’m in the middle of a very crime-ridden city, in a country that whilst globally powerful has some political issues at home and abroad that could do with sorting, and I’ve a dozen ideas on how to fix them. To exacerbate matters, winter is, as they say, coming and things are getting very tremendously frigid around here.
Still further, the global economy is in a state of flux, the so-called recession, and wars are being waged across the surface of the planet as mistrust, scientific bedazzlement, and innovation for good and ill roam through human civilisation faster than our most advanced technology that disseminate it.
Further still, Earth sits in a quiet, prolonged, peril, as the sun looms closer day by day to incinerating it and reducing it once more to the dust it came from when our Sol was young. The planets hurtle around us in regular patterns, pulling in meteors and comets from beyond the solar system, any one of which has a chance to upset the balance or simply wipe us out in a collision.
Continuing on, the Milky Way galaxy itself is not safe, as its neighbour Andromeda hurtles toward us, threatening to reshape the face of one of the eldest cradles of humankind into something almost entirely unrecognisable. And beyond that, the universe keeps on expanding, faster and faster, farther and farther, into a realm that we are only just beginning to understand, a realm devoid of both space and time.
And all the while, on the tiniest of the tiny, the smallest of the small, the building blocks of the building blocks of what universe we recognise, things are constantly popping into being and ceasing to exist, in a tenuous average that we call reality. These are the things that roam through my mind, that occupy the greatest portion of my not-inconsiderable thinking power, and you know what?
Every second of that Great Thinking excites, fascinates, and intrigues me.
So take a brain like mine, knowing what it does, and ask it to come up with machinations in another world, a different world, a world with magic, elves, dwarves, dragons, and all manner of monsters, gods, demons, devils, and planes of reality…and you pretty much get Remember, and then some.
I know who fired the first shot of the Arcanian Revolutionary War and why, I know the name of the first Dwarf king who sent his people deep into the mountains, I know Asmodeus’ opening argument at the Baator Trials, I can tell you how magic is created and how spellcasters of all manner of species bend it to rewrite the humble laws of reality, and I even know the constellations in the sky of every planet in every solar system I’ve ever had to get involved, light years distant from one another.
And more than that, I know that in approximately thirty more pages, the Battle for the Palace will end, deciding the path a world I treasure so much yet have never set foot upon will take into the familiar future I have been lucky enough to experience. Remember’s Book chapters will have finally run their course, and the story of Lyinginbedmon will have finally come full circle back to where I began, better than I imagined it could ever be back then.
And it will not be the end of Remember.
If the universe allowed it, I’d gladly write pages and draw comics until time itself was finally ground to a halt, and like those quantum particles popping in and out of existence, I’d still straddle an unquiet average of silence to keep going.
As Dean Stockwell once said (albeit in perhaps a less positive context than I might enjoy): “I’m a machine, and I could know so much more”, or if you are among the many who enjoy clown facepaint and are bewildered by magnets: as Joseph Bruce once sang “This world is yours, for you to explore.”