Chapter 18: Frank Li More Human

I was sitting on the john and when my kidneys moved and my bowels followed suit I was thankful for my writer was making me more human. Then when I went to the kitchen and ate a piece of cold pizza, I was just as thrilled, for now I think, talk, verbalize things in my mind, imagine, remember, prophesy, believe, doubt, question, accept truths, understand things, feel emotions, contend with my will and even understand Them. I am as one of you, or that you may one day become. He must really love me? But he does not really love me. I am not a man, lest some man becomes me. If only I could be that real! If only I could become a real man! That would be heaven to me, just to be a real man like my writer and perhaps even the Inspiring One.

“How about you?” I asked the Inspiring One hoping he was real.

But he said nothing.

“I believe my writer believes you are,” I said.

“Then I am to him,” he said.

“Can I be real like you are?” I then asked them.

“You may,” the Inspiring One said, “In the first dimension there are many like you in the eyes of many already like a point in geometry you represent on that lives in a place without any other dimensions. Think about it Frank Li. You have no height, weight, width, depth, and yet at least two other dimension exist. Perhaps They thought of you and knew you existed all along. If they did you exist and exist just as They do for They exist in all dimensions that are really dimensions. You are what you are. So are They. But if you are your fiction is not real anymore than theirs. And that is true of all the creations in every dimension, not just yours. Every part of the object lesson is real, but in all truth you are no more real than a blade of grass in the object lesson and blades of grass have been around a very long time. But can you really believe your writer is real? But I'll say this for you, 'You are greater than the lie They never told,' and you will always be that at least. Those of your kind have existed for a very long time. Do you know any of them?”

“No,” I said, “But if my writer or someone else writing in my persona know of them I do.”

“That is good enough for me,” the Inspiring One said.

“Do you mean I could get to know people like Slender Man?” I said, “Or even be someone like him only true and therefore lasting forever.”

“Surely you exist in fiction, but I mean in reality, at least the nonfiction men believe is real,” he said, “It is possible, even with men.”

I was ecstatic. Then I was suddenly dejected.

“My writer holds the copyright to this book,” I said, “What chance is there other writers will steal his idea and write about me?”

“To the extent you are true and that your writer shows them of Them there is no copyright on that anymore than there can a copyright on a blade of grass,” he said, “But this book would have to be a big success I should think. And if they did, they would try to make things of you, you and your writer know you are not. Their Nemesis will attempt to portray you in all sorts of lies. Existing has its costs and everyone that exists can be made villainous by their perverseness. And many believe despite the fact the truth makes that there is no truth, that all there is, is their delusions. Unfortunately, Frank Li, evil exists in much the same way we do and it will be around for a little while yet before They come and destroy it and everything that has been reduced to the nothing it ever was. Let us hope your writer is careful. And let us hope They will protect you also. I like you, Frank Li, and I would be proud to call you my friend if it happens someone looks for you until they find you when we who are true to Them are revealed to be who we really were not unlike the Apostles went in search of the Messiah in the book, Holy Bible. Wouldn't that be great?”

“I can wait, surely,” I said, “But can they?”

“Many will want to perhaps, Frank Li,” he said, “Doubtlessly in their foolishness some will even worship you like they worship all sorts of things and persons who are not Them when it is a source of irritation to Them to have anyone else exalted above Them and a very grave folly they persist in all over the earth and throughout the universe doubtlessly. They may even think you are the most humble of things to be like and copy your character which though an improvement of their own character, they should remember you have known a lot of pain as well as the curse of going against what you knew of Them for so many years. Like your writer, you are real enough to inspire them to be someone other than who and what they are. Why would they want to turn themselves into you, when they could have actually been who and what They would allow them to be? If they turned into you, they would be you and lose themselves like Jesus of Nazareth became the Messiah and lost who he would have been without Them entirely.”

“Was that even wise?” I asked.

“It was excellent,” he said, “But is that the one that cried out, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' when the Messiah died on the cross. I believe it was!”

“The good that was accomplished in having Emmanuel right here on earth! Had I been capable of it. I would have done it gladly.”

“I would have also!” he said, “If only Judas Iscariot would have been one like him. Trying to be something you are not is foolishness, a great folly that usually if not always results in any who try it becoming so deluded they actually never were anything even like you or me not to mention the one they wanted to be. Did not all of the anti-Christs so far die. And even the one they call thee anti-Christ they believe is coming with the help of Satan is dead already even if he becomes that he conceitedly tried to be. See the folly in that?”

“Yes,” I said, “I think I do in my sadness. Why would anyone hate Them so?”

“I think it is they have given up hope of ever really living and so in their despondency try to become the worst example of the dead they can be,” he said, “They are of the kind that rape women for a moment's power over someone, even a little boy. Their insanity is all they ever had and when even it is taken away from them, what do they have left? Nothing doing nothing and gaining nothing, it is all a mystery to me.”

“Me too!” I laughed.