Delusions of grandeur

When I was in school, I once came up with the idea that I was a god. I got the idea from The Twilight Zone--an episode where a man is on death row and his case his being put forward for his final appeal. He tells the defense attorney that this is not the first time he has been killed. He tells him that he is the sole "true person" in that reality and that all other people were merely figments of it. The story goes that he is killed over and over again, for eternity, as everyone rewinds and starts again, only playing new roles. According to the man, the only way to end the cycle is for him to not be executed...otherwise, it will play on and on for eternity.

So I began hypothesizing to my friends. They brought up counterarguments, about how they could remember moments when they were not around me. I suggested that they merely were made to think they existed but that they were actually puppets...and that the universe disintegrated behind me whenever I turned my back.

The real question, now, isn't whether or not I'm a god. The real question is what if we are all puppets, dancing on a lonely stage in the corner bedroom of a child's mind? We tend to think of the Universe as space and stars and galaxies gyrating...unbounded. But what if it is bounded, only bounded by the walls of a skull, a throbbing temple? Would it make a difference?

We each create our own universes. Galaxies or whirlpools or eddies in the bathtub--universes within universes. And to interact with another person is to be tugged on by their gravity. To fall in love with another person is to fall into them completely, swallowed up until there is nothing left but gravity.