runaway imagination

Runaway Imagination

I’ve got a head full of transgressions. A head full of wonder and smiles. A head full of past acquaintances masquerading as memories. A head full of brain cells, ten billion or more vying for the upper hand.

My head would be an English garden without all those brain cells, a fine place to take a stroll on the first day of spring. It frightens me that I might be nothing more than a byproduct of the fierce interaction of all those cells. That I might not be God.

Another way to look at it is those cells would not exist without me, I created them, in which case I am God. Yes, what if I created those cells and then put them to work creating the universe?

You’re probably thinking, “Hey, what about me? I’ve got ten billion cells spinning around in my brain too, so then I created the universe, or a universe anyway. Maybe there are as many universes as there are brain cells, maybe each brain cell is a universe onto itself, a universe full of tiny brains full of tiny brain cells busily creating universes. What makes you think you’re so special?”

All I can say to that is, “Don’t let your imagination run away with you.

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