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"But I thought..."

"You thought you had succeeded already at harnessing your powers? Creating me was a feat you could have never accomplished in your past life. In this one, however, it is merely a small fraction of the potential you now contain. You could create worlds, if you only knew how."

"Wait a minute!," you say, holding up your hand to stop him from interrupting again. "I thought you only knew as much as I know. You're telling me things now..."

"Things that you think you do not know," Clay interrupts again. "But you do know them, deep inside your subconscious. If you listen closely to your inner voice, everything I say resonates with the truth. I am merely a voice for thoughts that have not yet surfaced in your mind. Talking with me is like conversing with your subconscious, the part of you that remembers everything and knows so much more than your conscious mind can ever fathom at one time. I am the essence of you, and as such I am your perfect guide in all matters."

"Oh." You think about this for a moment. Something doesn't seem quite right here. What he says does resonate with the truth, but it also doesn't feel quite right. Something about this whole scenario doesn't feel quite right. It's too good to be true. Too personal to be real. It's as if you have died, and suddenly you are a god. Part of you wants that to be true, but part of you is so used to relating to others and trying to understand the universe that you can't believe it. There has to be something else, someone else, beyond you and your dreamscape.

By: tyrsia

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