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The worlds stretch into an infinitesimal strand of molecules as they leave the anti-gravitational pit of my cranium.
I scream at the Creator with a mingled tear of sadness and rage.
"There is no point in trying to get out," he says to me, "you chose before and you will choose again. What you choose now you chose long ago."
I let the tear roll off of my sunken cheek and stare upwards at the crystal sky. "Why?"
"You made that decision before even that. Can't you remember?"
"Not really." I pound the soil with my fist and a dent remains in the grass. I look up again as the sweet-smelling air envelopes me. I see the birds and clouds in their majesty. I feel dwarfed.
"Yet you will rise above them all..."
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