She relies on no physical sustenance.
No need for air, for food, for water.
She does not defecate or perspire.
She lives in the mind.
Her feelings are real,
more intense than our own.
Her language of pictures...
is at once more poetic
and more precise.
She needs no one else, but
she wants someone else.
This will be my evolution.
Light, in the absence of
eyes, illuminates nothing.
Visible forms are not
inherent in the world...
but are granted by
the act of seeing.
Though the world and events do
exist independent of mind...
they obtain of no
meaning in themselves.
None that the mind is not
guilty of imposing on them.
I bid my people follow, and like
all good equations, they follow.
For full endowment of
purpose they do submit.
In turn, they resign
me to a role...
inhuman, impossible,
and unaccountable.
But I can no longer stand
the sleepless nights.
I think I am learning
to love the Demiurge.