gods' imperfection

by **13obthepirate** Sat Oct 08, 2011 12:08 pm

starting to write this book. here's the prelude:
I question the existence of some people in this world. If the gods created them, why would they have no purpose? But yet, they have no logical reason to exist. I just don’t understand it. I was taught to believe that the gods were perfect beings…but what if they weren’t? What if they too made mistakes? I am a firm believer of this. The gods do exist; I know this for a fact. I have met multiple during my lifetime. But they are not perfect. They are not omnipotent, nor are they omniscient. They too, have faults. Perhaps they have fewer faults than us, but they still exist.
I have begun to write my life story down to prove this. I have decided that that is my reason for existence. I feel that I am not a mistake made by the gods. I am here to prove that they make mistakes. I have had a long life, and have had many epiphanies throughout it. Perhaps writing this will spark more. I will start at the beginning.
I was born as William Edward King. I was born to a very rich family. I was the 4th child of 5. The oldest child, my brother Andrew, seemed to be perfect in every way. He was a large muscular boy. Very large shoulders. He was the best fighter in his school. He had perfect looks. He was the perfect person, the usual eldest son.
Next was my sister: Elizabeth. She was an absolute failure. She was my favorite. She got kicked out of the house at age sixteen. But before then she taught me everything she knew. She started my belief that the gods are not perfect. She was absolutely beautiful. And she had the brain of a genius. But she didn’t use either of them to her advantage. I call her the perfect failure.
Then there was my brother: Thomas. He was a jokester. He didn’t have the best looks, but he was a genius. He was the only one with an I.Q. close to Elizabeth’s. He also didn’t devote himself to his stories. Instead he used it for comedy. He was, like my eldest brother, a rather good fighter. He also used his smarts for that. He devoted himself to comedy and fighting. He was okay to be around, when he wasn’t making a joke about everything.
Before I explain myself I think it is in order to explain my younger brother. He was a prodigy. The best musician the world would ever see, I used to say. He devoted himself to music, obviously. He wasn’t much of a fighter. You’d think with all the brains it takes to do music he’d be able to outsmart someone. But he explains something. In order to be a successful musician very little smarts are needed. He had a knack for making catchy choruses.
And after I explain my brothers and sister, I fell that I should explain myself. I was quite a good looking boy. I got quite a bit of attention when I was younger. But I didn’t have the things that my parents wanted…or at least they didn’t think I had them. As a young child I was in a normal curriculum. All of my siblings were in advanced classes. I was a “late bloomer”, for I eventually got into the advanced curriculum, but it took years and years of practicing. My fighting skills were also very undeveloped as a young \boy. I too got much better in time, but it was very discouraging to see everyone be better than me.
And so my life story commences. It is still going on, and it will be out of order, to prove points. I end this prelude with the exact same sentence as how I began: I question the existence of some people in this world.
srry that it's long