The Watcher

Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen humans repeating the same mistakes.

Over and over and over again…

It’s a lonely existence, really, but it is what I got. It’s what we all get.

I wish I could intervene, I really do, but, alas, our existence is bound by rules, incomprehensive to the human race, but unbreakable nonetheless.

It is not that I imagined it to be. I thought observing would be enough, I thought having something to watch over would spare me from nothingness, but it’s been a struggle. I’ve wanted to scream so many times since the beginning, to save humans from themselves. I may not have the power to alter reality, but humans have given me more power than I could have ever hoped for. I know they’d listen. I know they’d listen to Me.

I have been given many names, but none of them suit me. I am not God. I am not the Supreme Being. I am but a Watcher. I existed in darkness, and I was only given a purpose once the new intelligent world was created. I am to observe and report. Each of us is assigned to a different world across realities, trying to find the perfect balance, searching for a world that will be indestructible by the passing of time, but I fear that Earth is not The One. I fear that once it ceases to exist, I shall, as well.

If this is how it’s meant to be, then I accept my fate, for sometimes I think I’ve lived too long...