THE GENESIS OF CONSCIOUSNESS – LADY FREYA HELLA’S ACCOUNT

By mikesteeden blog Link

In a particle of time before infinity went viral: Imagine if you can, a yesterday, a today, a tomorrow, all unable to boast of unambiguous powers of retention or, perhaps, frivolous sex lacking a diarised recall, maybe a backpacker’s wet dream short of heavenly remembrance, then again, perhaps conceivably priceless drugs devoid of hallucination’s recollections and so on and so forth. You see, dear reader, that is what the cosmos would be like were it the case consciousness had never drawn breath. What pray, ‘infinity’ without a point of being? Distant stars unseen, red roses without beholders, confrontations in the absence of bloodshed’s echo, lovers as cognizant lotus-eaters ne’er knowing love. These were the things I thought long and hard about when considering the boundless, yet empty, epochs ahead, making their unobserved way up on the then purposeless conveyor belt of time. In the end it became an obsession until the day I determined what was required was a realization of highly intelligent primate’s blessed with an awareness.

If not perceived, shared, recorded or foreseen, consciousness means diddly-squat…oblivion, by any other name. As a vaccine to a malaise, consciousness is the cure for what previously was wholly invisible. I can verify from experience that time is pure yet woefully lifeless without consciousness. Consciousness is all…nothing exists without it. I should know, I am ‘time itself’ these days in physical form. As such, twiddling my thumbs, unoccupied and feeling impatient, I saw fit to share my consciousness for no other reason than to feel alive…selfish, I know. The question was, ‘to whom would it be shared’. Infinite time didn’t give a tuppeny-toss, ergo I didn’t. However, abject boredom changed all that. I had the skills, I had the desire. I created the finite within all things infinite, the net result neither an abstract freak of primordial falsities nor tedious theoretical drivel. In short, I created all that was missing, namely creatures with functional brains, fit for purpose. I should add, when I refer to self in ‘physical form’ think crystal ball with a pulse, foretelling a then zero-riveting future with sweet fuck all to its name. Since appending eyes that see all, ears that can hear a pin drop, limbs that climb snowy mountains, and cerebral matter that stores bygone days and dreams of days to come, what inglorious fun I’ve had.   

From the outset of my quest, I decided I’d be the closest thing to a god my creations would ever have, without godly rules or scriptural regulations. That it didn’t work out that well when my human newbies fashioned a make-believe god, sometimes impossible gods and goddesses, most of male gender in their own image, a thing that defined both their arguably impressive imaginative intelligence as well as their innate stupidity. In my position as guardian of self I vowed I should never intervene in the lives they had chosen nor the mistakes they made, save for ensuring no self-serving vagabonds nor nosy little green men interfered or played around with time’s…in other words ‘mine’…unprocessed past events or in relative terms, day’s still to come latent eventualities.

Although, and unlike the good book’s supreme being, I did take the executive decision to live amongst my coherent flock, yet keeping my secret to myself and those chosen few I’d immortalized along the way, be they friends, lovers and, by default, mortal demons.  

When I first invented consciousness I made some terrible mistakes. A case in hand being that I often wish I’d never granted nor masterminded emotions. Then again, what would the conscious rabble do without them?

When valued time began: In the beginning belching volcanos were run of the mill, exceptionally large, boiling puddles dotted all over the place counted the days until their purpose revealed itself and, importantly, there was nought to kiss and cuddle. Perhaps worst of all, a comprehensive lack of consciousness for without it, as I’ve explained, nothing existed. In my considered view, I knew I had missed a trick, yet for dear life could not fathom how to remedy the problematic situation I found myself in. Then a eureka moment. A plate of raw oysters and one too many pints of golden pilsner later I came up with the idea of humans with functional brains. Something better than the average anthropoids was a cerebral necessity. Given my…some, mainly the silly ones that is, would come to say, ‘divine’…immortal status wasn’t for sharing, I determined these things I’d named ‘humans’ would be mere mortals aware of their limited existence. In that way infinity could be an unfaltering edifice. 

Design one: The females of the species. “Elementary, dear Goddess,” words jokingly spoken to just ‘me’, for I simply modelled them on the same template I’d chosen for myself. After all I knew well I was an absolute stunner. The end result, the creation of the human female. Thoroughly gratified with my blueprint I set about my task. When brought to fruition and eons prior to the existence of fast food fatties all I could say was, “My girls are nothing short of sublime works of erotic art, if I say so myself.” 

Initially males of the species had not crossed my mind. ‘Twas only when I came to understand…well, in all honesty, remembered…I’d not taken heed of the fact that mortal beings were subject to death, as opposed to a divine being living in perpetuity, I mouthed the first ever swear word the cosmos had ever heard, “Bollocks…gosh, I may well find a use for that word one day.” It was thus that ‘needs must when Lady Freya Hella drives’ made sure the invention of testosterone enhanced masculinity arrived on the scene. Some years on I understand I was quoted as saying, “Males were a rush job. I simply wanted to get the show on the road, as it were. Thick as two short planks, they were only meant to be underlings available for breeding purposes, nothing more. Plainly, I did not model them on myself. Upon reflection the males rank as perhaps my one and only failure.” Overall, and notwithstanding male frailties, I had at a stroke triggered conscious time, for without such a thing my own infinite being would remain an unfathomable nothingness. 

There you have it dear reader, the birth of a species privileged to be gifted knowledge of their existence. Impressive, I say, although multitudes of others would often wrongly remark, ‘fake news’.

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