A Message from Someone (1)
Hello. It’s nice to meet you.
You know, it brings me great joy to have my voice reach you like this.
Are you a man? A woman? Either way, I’m very glad, and either way, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. After all, you exist in this world. And that means you must be one of God’s creations. That’s the only thing that matters.
As such, I find this miracle all the more delightful. Do you have any idea just how glad I am? I suspect eternity could pass and you still wouldn’t be able to fathom the depths of my joy.
Ah, that’s right—you don’t know anything about me.
You don’t know what my face looks like, or what my voice sounds like, or what sort of flesh and bone I’m made up of.
You don’t know how I’ve lived my life, or how I was loved, or how my deeds were exaggerated, or what they made me out to be.
You know nothing. Nor do you have any reason to.
And so I say, It’s nice to meet you.
And thank you for lending an ear to me, me, and me alone. I extend to you my deepest gratitude. But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder—is my voice actually reaching you?
Perhaps in truth, this message of mine is going unheard.
Just like it did all those lifetimes ago. But if so, that’s fine, too.
At the end of the day, you listening or not doesn’t really change anything. After all, this is much like a prayer, and prayer is supposed to be a one-way street.
It’s the same as when you all prayed. Was I listening? Was I not?
Either way, it didn’t really matter.
Wouldn’t you agree?
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