The ancient gods died because we didn’t believe in them anymore.
How vain it is to make something exist,
to create things from imagination,
to claim ourselves gods by believing in false ones.
But what of my thoughts and my dreams?
Am I the devil when I dream, or am I a god?
When you read of me,
do I exist more?
Do I exist greater?
People become immortal
because we turn their lives into anecdotes.
We become gods when we create them.