Leaf, Gaze, Drop

Upon reaching their sixteenth birthday, Leaf and Drop are finally told what their purpose is in life as the last humans on Earth, after living underground in a hidden laboratory since they were born.

prologue

ON THE FIRST day, and the six days following, He created Himself.

He created Himself, but allowed for alteration and proliferation. He wanted Himself to go on and on, never ending, but always fluctuating.

He created a world in which He could thrive, all of His many different selves, but in a sense none of these selves could understand, the world was also Himself, just simplified, or perhaps expanded upon. It really depended on how you looked at it. In this world, he created other versions of Himself, many different beings that all looked very different, startlingly different, but really all the same, made of the same things and requiring the same necessities.

And then the world began.

This world, He knew, was not perfect. Or maybe it was. Perhaps He thought of it as perfectly imperfect. Nonetheless, it grew and expanded, thrived and strived, and at many times, fought against itself for the most senseless reasons. Of course, if this world He had created could see itself for what it truly was, these foolish actions may not have ever happened, or maybe they would have. But He allowed them to happen because He wanted them to. He wanted to watch them learn. He wanted to watch Himself grow again, become something great, as He once was, before splitting himself up among billions of consciousnesses.

Oh, and He was still there after such an exhausting sacrifice. He was always there, just in many pieces, scattered across the Himself we call the world, and very well-hidden, deep within the confines of each being’s mind. He was patient, for he knew that if a fragment of Himself tried hard enough, it might find Him hidden away inside, waiting to reward it with all the knowledge it was seeking.

He created Himself; He created me.

And I found Him.

∞∞∞

WHEN WE WERE all infants, every single one of us, we had not a single fathom of an idea as to what we were experiencing.

This may seem like an obvious statement, but do any of us really take a moment to think back and consider how that must have been? How we cried so much merely to receive the attention we needed to survive, how we are born with brains seventy-five percent smaller than the average adult brain, which more than doubles in size by the time we have lived outside of the womb for a year. The amount of information we take in during this first year is crucial.

It isn’t widely known that the average adult human brain has around roughly 100 billion neurons, and that during early pregnancy, neurons have shown to multiply at a rate of 250,000 neurons per minute. But why, and for what purpose? We grow, we become educated through a system that determines what we learn, we mindlessly work for forty years to support our own comfortable existence, perhaps reproduce, and then die, more often than not hoping that our legacy will continue, that we left some sort of mark upon this chunk of rock we call Earth that is seventy-one percent water. We hope this, even though our existence is merely a blip and there are 7.5 billion other human beings with the same exact fleeting thought, who each started off in the same place you did, floating in amniotic fluid for about nine months after being conceived from the most simple and primitive of acts that results in the most fascinating creation ever slightly discovered.

But why, and for what purpose?

***TO BE CONTINUED***

Author's Note

Hold nothing back! I want any and all advice that you have to give!