My ego loves to attain things. It loves achievements of all kinds. It never does attain things of course. It never actually achieves anything. Just nonsense stuff, stuff that doesn’t matter. Pointless stuff. In the early days it covered itself in glory, succeeding brilliantly at meaningless tasks. Those heady days have long since passed however – they are but a memory. Now even the nonsense achievements are too much for it. It fails at nonsense tasks on a full-time basis. It is completely crushed by them.

I love to mock my ego about that. It’s a real sore point, obviously, so I keep on ribbing it. I rib it mercilessly; I rib it night and day. How could anyone resist? I mock my stupid old ego every step of the way and that’s only as it should be. That old ego of mine is the Laughing Stock of the Whole of Creation, and I make sure to let it know this at every opportunity! That stupid old ego of mine is the ultimate Figure of Fun, the ultimate Butt of All Jokes – it exists purely in order to be made fun of, and yet at the same time being made fun of is the thing that hurts it the most! Ironic, isn’t it? It is fitting, it is most undeniably fitting, but at the same time it has to be said that it is extraordinarily cruel. It hurts my ego so very much. This makes for the most excellent sport, in other words – or at least this would make for the most excellent sport if it were not for the fact that I am my ego.

When I first embarked upon my career as a liar I was by anyone standard’s a very good one. I was a highly accomplished and fluent liar and it was clear I was going to be going places. For a liar as accomplished and inspired as I was no door would remain closed for very long! Who knows what I might have achieved? Or at least, as I should probably say, who knows what I might have claimed to have achieved? It never worked out for me though. That early promise was never fulfilled – my lies quickly became all too obvious. They were frayed at the edges; I lost my creative power and ended up in an unhappy place. My lies were poor unconvincing things and they fooled no one, least of all myself. They were in fact an embarrassment to everyone concerned.

Space entered me then – it got inside me and that proved to be the end of me. It chased me here and there like a bank of impenetrable fog, it drove me from pillar to post until eventually there was no more getting away from it. It rushed towards me from all angles, like the irresistible force of nature it was. Only at the same time it was nothing at all! Nothingness beset me from all sides. There was nothing in it except for more nothingness, nothingness hidden within nothingness, which then opened up to reveal endless vistas of yet more nothingness, as pure as the freshly fallen snow in some vast Northern Forest after a week-long blizzard has just lifted. Space with no footprints in it, space that you can’t ever think about. Space that no one can ever think about. Imperturbable space, Infinite space, Immutable space – space that no force can ever stand against…

Image – intergate.io