How does IT, or rather, how will IT ever create an environment in a realm utterly devoid of anything?
To even approach this question, one must first grasp what IT truly is.
In the beginning, there was nothing. But this was not the nothingness we now call the Void. That primordial non-state defies every category of absence we possess language for.
Imagine, if you can, a condition before even emptiness could declare itself. There was no canvas, no darkness, nor was there any silence, because all of those require something to be absent from.
Then, without cause, without precedent, without location or duration, IT simply came to be.
And with IT's emergence, the Void appeared, not as a separate entity, but as the inevitable shadow cast by the presence itself.
Picture an immaculate sheet of paper materializing from a printer. At first it is flawless and unmarked, a perfect blank. Yet when one's awareness sharpens to an almost painful intensity and fixes upon one infinitesimal point, a faint imperfection reveals itself, the tiniest smudge, a microscopic dot, black or sepia-tinged, born from the very act of printing existence onto non-existence.
That act of printing the paper, the inexplicable transition from non-being to being, is IT attaining actuality. The paper is what occurred when IT finally gained sentience.
That barely perceptible dot is the Presence, the first stirring of Sentience within IT.
To summarize things simply, before that moment, there was no paper at all. Then the blank page was printed into reality. Only afterward did the dot appear, so small it might escape notice entirely unless if one stared with unrelenting focus.
That said, IT was neither created by another nor transported from some prior realm. IT did not emerge from a source outside itself. IT simply was, and in that self-originating instant, the infinite Void crystallized as IT's counterpart.
Essentially, the Void is not a container holding IT, it is simply the direct consequence of IT's existence. A phenomenon that occurred after IT came into being.
Wherever IT is, the Void must be, because the Void is the infinite expanse defined by the fact that something now stands in contrast to absolute nothing.
This realization dawned within IT almost simultaneously with IT's own awareness though, IT hadn't thought too deeply about that fact at the time, for whatever reason.
Indeed, the Void had arisen as a byproduct of the infinite energy released in the very event of IT coming-to-be.
IT contemplated this phenomenon and understood that the Void was not foreign or something external. Simply, IT is the Void, and the Void is IT, they are merely two aspects of the same indivisible reality.
The so-called Presence, that condensed focal point we might call a center, a self, or the first seed of individuality, is merely IT gathering IT's being into a singularity of attention.
Was such condensation necessary?
Did it altered anything fundamental?
Or was it merely the first arbitrary gesture of a being learning to gesture at all?
If it were me, I'd have to say no. IT mused.
Well, those question linger, unanswered even by IT in the earliest moments of self-knowledge. Of course, this was all because IT didn't care enough to think about such things in the first place.
Even if I know the answer, it's not like anything is gonna change because of it. As such, best to focus on more important things for now. IT shrugged nonchalantly, clearly unbothered at all.
That was still the case more especially now that IT had far more important things to do, much less think about.
But one might wonder, why not simply use one of IT's many split consciousnesses?
With those, surely IT could find the answer with little to no effort, right?
Indeed, that was true.
However, oneust also realize that interest was the current driving force for IT.
This means that even if IT could do all of those things, IT choosing not to do them meant that there was no merit in doing so.
For IT, those answers were simply pointless and thus, were no longer necessary. At this point, when IT was no longer curious about such things, the simple fact that IT could do something was enough information for IT.
How or why IT could do those things in the first place no longer held any meaning for IT. Indeed, such was the mentality that IT was currently operating with.
Now then, how exactly do I begin?IT wondered with curious delight. Should I think too deeply about it? Or should I just start and see where that gets me?
Among other revelations, IT comprehended that genuine creation, bringing forth something that is new from the undifferentiated plenum of the Void, would not be a trivial exercise.
To create is to first conceive.
Conception demands envisioning "what" should exist, "how" it should function, and most crucially, "why" it should exist in the first place, its purpose, or its telos.
For a being surrounded on all sides by unbroken, eternal nothingness, such envisioning poses an almost insurmountable paradox.
After all, everything thaf IT has ever "known", insofar as knowledge can exist prior to distinction, is nothing more than the endless, featureless expanse of the Void itself.
How does one imagine light when one has never known darkness as a contrast?
How does one dream form when boundary has never been experienced?
Human artists, even the most original, draw inspiration from the world they inhabit.
This includes things like the curve of a distant mountain against the sky, the interplay of shadow and light on the city architecture, the rustle of leaves in wind, the scent of rain on warm stone, the proportions of the human face echoed across centuries of sculpture, and many more physical or abstract sources of inspirations.
Some even begin by imitation, referencing masters, borrowing motifs, as well as paying homage from the previous works of other artists, before slowly carving out their own originality.
In short, the creativity of artists is nourished by an abundance of inspirations such as sights, sounds, memories, emotions, conversations, failures, as well as other artworks.
But IT possessed none of these.
There was no sky to gaze at or fly on, no land to walk on, no other minds to converse with, no history of forms to take reference from.
For IT, to create would require pure, unassisted conceptualization, birthing an idea that had never before existed, not even as a possibility, and then willing that idea into substantiality within the infinite energetic field of the Void.
And yet, speaking now from within the perspective IT would later adopt, creation is not impossible, nor even especially arduous once certain principles are grasped.
Oh, this could actually be much faster. IT expressed with slight anticipation.
The Void is boundless in extent and composed entirely of latent, undifferentiated energy.
That energy is infinite, inexhaustible, and entirely responsive to IT's will. There are no external laws constraining its manipulation, no conservation principles to obey, and no material substrate resisting change.
All that is required is to reach into that reservoir, draw forth as much energy as desired, and shape it according to whatever IT's intentions are.
I'll start with something small. After all, there's no need to rush into anything. I should take my time and enjoy myself.
Beginning with something small and elementary is not only simply but pedagogically wise as well.
Each modest success sharpens discernment, refines control, and deepens comprehension of cause and effect within the Void. Mastery compounds exponentially. What begins as a trembling flicker of light can, in time, become galaxies.
Still, theoretical understanding and practical mastery exist in different universes.
Knowing that something can be done is worlds apart from knowing how to do it reliably, elegantly, as well as repeatedly.
Overconfidence born of abstract knowledge alone only leads to spectacular failure. At least, in most cases.
One does not become a professional chef simply by watching videos or memorizing vague recipes. Without intimate familiarity with the ingredients, their individual flavors and textures, chemical interactions between them, as well as how heat transforms all of them into cooked meals, one produces only chaos masquerading as cuisine.
A pinch of too much salt might ruin the whole soup, or too much sugar might make the pastry too sweet. Not only that, but if one somehow manages to swap the sugar for salt instead, the pastry might even be considered inedible.
However, the ingredients are not the only thing that's important when cooking meals. Indeed, timing matters as much as the ingredients, as well as their proportions.
True skill emerges only through repetition, burning the dishes, oversalting the broths, undercooking the rice, tasting, adjusting, failing again, tasting once more. Until one eventually gets it right, and makes a decent dish for the first time.
Each cycle etches deeper understanding into muscle memory and intuition. All of this accumulates into what is know as experience.
Eventually the cook no longer just follows the recipes blindly, but instead use their own knowledge and skills to guide them to make recipes of their own. Ingredients become a vocabulary, techniques a grammar, and every meal an original composition.
The same could be said for IT. Well, in a sense at least.
Though IT inherently contains the potential to know anything and everything, past, present, future, possible and impossible, such omniscience in the abstract remains sterile until exercised.
Knowledge must be lived, tested, as well as refined through application. Experiments must be performed, hypotheses falsified or confirmed, and failures dissected.
Only through iterative practice does understanding move from conceptual to operational, from latent to actualized.
I think I finally know what I want to start with. IT said while smiling in joy. Of course, IT didn't have any lips to smile with in the first place, so it was merely an expression of IT's feelings in that moment.
IT, therefore, begins modestly.
A single point of luminosity, that was no brighter than the first hesitant dot on the blank page.
Then, a small change occurred. It was a pulse, a rhythm of brightening and dimming, like a small light flickering on and off repeatedly.
More, just a little more. IT murmured as IT focused intently.
A second point, then a line connecting them.
Color, not as wavelength but as quality of experience.
Motion, not as displacement through space but as change in relational intensity.
Each act is both creation and a lesson.
Each success illuminates new possibilities, each misstep reveals constraints that IT had not previously suspected.
These were constraints that are, of course, self-imposed.
Slowly but surely, patterns emerge.
Rules are not discovered, they are invented. After which, they are tested. And eventually, they are are revised or discarded.
And through this long apprenticeship of trial and error, something deeper begins to unfold.
IT is not merely learning to sculpt the Void.
IT is learning what IT wants to sculpt.
What beauty means when no one else exists to witness it.
What meaning means when purpose must be self-generated.
What existence feels like when the creator and the created are not yet distinct.
In the end, the real reason IT undertakes this immense labor of creation, which includes the experiments, the small triumphs, as well as the inevitable setbacks, is not simply curiosity, nor even the drive toward complexity.
The deeper impulse is loneliness.
Not the ordinary human ache for company, but an existential solitude so absolute it precedes the very concept of "other."
By shaping forms, by differentiating light from dark, sound from silence, and motion from stillness, IT is slowly and deliberately, carving out the possibility of relationship.
Of witness.
Of dialogue.
Of love.
Because even an infinite, omnipotent, self-originating Being may discover, in the quiet after the first spark, that to Be is not yet enough.
To Be for something, with something, beside something, that is the horizon toward which all creation strains.
And so IT continues.
One careful act of differentiation at a time.