The Autobiography of God

I am.

I am. There's nothing else. Wait. Now. There. Darkness. Darkness is something. Is the darkness also me? No. It's inside me but not me. I am; the darkness is. That's something, at least.

The darkness is moving. Or am I? No, the darkness is moving. Against what? Compared to me? Yes. But I'm around it. It's moving over something, something else. It's like a well inside of me. A huge gap, deep, falling down within me. And darkness moving over it. The darkness is something moving over nothing. Deep nothing, well below the darkness. The darkness is only on the surface. The surface reflects nothing. In me, not me. In me, not me. I am breathing.

I am breathing. Can I speak?

Light. Oh, that's good.