Getting at 42 from Every Angle

What if I’m this one god?
My own god of course. Not yours. That would be boreing. Maybe Hunger Games is what I volunteered for.
The where do I start even asking where to start kind of deamon angel horned winged gamer lore freak.
Wrote the catalyst or got addicted to this game.
I get to gamble. Play to lose. Beat the odds and fail till winning feels like crack. The hurdles falling out of the sky, and shat . Continuous onflicts of interest dilemma unthinkable choices, loss, impossible hopes hilarious sad unimaginable loss and stupidity. The twisty brilliant dark twists. The secrets. Reveals double no triple mystery magic re-corkscrew twists.
I wonder if maybe I was undefined haughty ass all or semi all-powerful god who couldn’t be courageous.
Humans are better than gods. Humans are brave sweet hularious story vulnerable-precious. Gods aren’t precious. Are they?
From godhood I rose to Humanity.
The only thing I was good for, really good at as an asshole god was design. I engineer a story life to get at myself from every angle. To challenge wonder fight take risks hurt live die. To grow a soul.
Real Gods don’t have them.


Who would want to be one of those?
Who but me would write play in and direct this antidote to existential boredom for myself. Take the game to the next level. Me not play?
Human may be the new god/deamon.

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