The Collective

Me: If God was real then why was Hungary destroyed? Why were most of my Hungarian family members murdered? First by Nazis and later by the Soviets? Why was I sent to the south to be tortured by Aunt Della every summer? Why was I beaten by my parents? Why was Bruce allowed to beat Sam?

The Collective: Understandable questions.

Me: Fuck God. If he is real, he’s an asshole. Is God real? You guys are advanced aliens, you should know.

The Collective: Word connected thought is inadequate for communication on this topic.

Me: Try me.

The Collective: There is Void. There is Collective Consciousness. They are Source. They are one. They are separate. They were created. They contain the quantum path through the multiverse and all dimensions. Their lessons continue until mastered. This truth is a sacred and divine mystery.

Me: You sound like a smelly hippy on LSD.

The Collective: We are not the ones currently primitive and deficient in communication.

Me: You can’t explain God can you?

The Collective: Your species is similar to a spider building a beautiful and complex web. You are being observed and affected by Source. You are creating your reality under the influence of Source. Sadly, you lack the ability to look up and see Source. You bask within the sacred frequency of source and feel nothing. You only examine your own web as you create it. You only engage with whatever your web captures. You only bring awareness to that which you consume within your web. You only observe what is in front of your face.

Me: Stop with the hippy bullshit. So is there a god or a goddess or not? I’m just a dumb primate so go easy on me. On a side note, if there is a Goddess I hope she’s smoking hot. I could get behind a smoking hot goddess.

The Collective: You cannot recognize the patterns of Source any more than a spider can recognize the sacred geometry within its web. You are a hard-working bee within the cosmic hive, a sea snail within a sacred conch shell, you are an ant working within its divinely designed colony.