…for whatever reason, they kept me alive through it all. I remember the rise of humanity’s smoke and ash. They called it a revolution. An industrial revolution. Until then they were just living their lives in relative balance. Looking back on it now, I suppose it was easy to see the signs that this would eventually happen.
I don’t remember what year by their reckoning it was, but there was a moment when I felt a kind of relief. A relief that the oppression and press of their massive population was gone…even though the stench of death was almost global. Not only the humans, but everything else as well. The silence stretched on for days, months, years, eons. But, for me, after eons of listening, interacting with humanity through their growth and their short lives…through the cacophony of their struggles and sounds, and later, their media, their travel, their go, go, go….it became cumbersome. Their conveniences became their downfall. Their desire to make life better for themselves became the death of their own species, and so many others. Some of us tried to warn them, but it was too late, so we just let them carry on, because we knew the planet would heal over time without them around, and we’d be here to watch over it as it did.
I remember the day the last one perished. They were lonely, talking to the sky, wishing things had been different…but humanity had been evolution’s grand consciousness experiment…something new. A way for the universe to understand itself, a way for the universe to converse with itself, and try to understand it’s own existential angst. For a time, it was wonderful, beautiful, even. There was art, there was magnificent music, there was awe inspiring and amazing talent…but, as always, and as the balance of the universe demands, there were the mirrors of those. Sadly, the mirrors ended up with more power. Perhaps that’s the way the universe recycles it’s own energy, in great expanses of time and entropy, through flowering of species, and the dying thereof…recycled. Folded back into the greater whole to wait and flower again later.
When the last one was gone. I sighed. The weight was gone, and the waiting began again, to see what would come next. They’d used their Eden, their garden, their home. They’d used it all up and left it barren…they were so ambitious, the were so amazing…they were so destructive and childish. They were beautiful and wondrous and amazing, and so full of life, but lacked the ability to see beyond their own time, beyond their own tiny minuscule lives. A flaw in the pattern. A problem with the programming, maybe.
We’ll watch, and see what this universe comes up with next, and try to interact and attempt to understand what went wrong…we’ll make notes…this time we might try to guide a little more. We’ll watch and listen and observe, and we will always be ready to learn something new.