I know what you're thinking, why don't I get out there and make something of my life, live up to my potential, reach for the moon so I can at least land amongst the stars, and all that...

But riddle me this, smart guy. If I'm out there living it up, exactly WHO do you think will press all these buttons? Do you think someone made all those buttons just to not be pressed?? No, obviously not. Don't be absurd. So I'll stay here, pressing my buttons and you just stay over there, seizing the day or whatever it is you do. Weirdo.

• Don't Act Dumb

• Don't take your phone into the bathroom with you. That's just gross.

• Don't try to press my off button. I clearly don't have one so you can stop looking. Also, -RUDE-

• Purple is objectively the best color  

........................ "The Egg" A short story by author: Andy Weir ........................

You were on your way home when you died. A fatal car crash. You left behind a wife and two children. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

What… what happened? You asked. Where am I?

You died, I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

There was a… a truck and it was skidding…

Yup, I said.

I… I died?

Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies, I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. What is this place? You asked. Is this the afterlife?

More or less, I said.

Are you god? You asked.

Yup, I replied. I’m God.

My kids… my wife, you said.

What about them?

Will they be all right?

That’s what I like to see, I said. You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

Don’t worry, I said. They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.

Oh, you said. So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?

Neither, I said. You’ll be reincarnated.

Ah, you said. So the Hindus were right,

All religions are right in their own way, I said. Walk with me.

You followed along as we strode through the void. Where are we going?

Nowhere in particular, I said. It’s just nice to walk while we talk.

So what’s the point, then? You asked. When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.

Not so! I said. You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now. Your soul is more magnificent and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had. You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.

How many times have I been reincarnated, then?

Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives. I said. This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.

Wait, what? You stammered. You’re sending me back in time?

Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.

Oh, you said, but wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point?

Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.

So what’s the point of it all?

Seriously? I asked. Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?

Well it’s a reasonable question, you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.

You mean mankind? You want us to mature?

No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.

Just me? What about everyone else?

There is no one else, I said. In this universe, there’s just you and me.

You stared blankly at me. But all the people on earth…

All you. Different incarnations of you.

Wait. I’m everyone!?

Now you’re getting it, I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

I’m every human being who ever lived?

Or who will ever live, yes.

I’m Abraham Lincoln?

And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too, I added.

I’m Hitler? You said, appalled.

And you’re the millions he killed... You see, every time you victimized someone, you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you. ........................ Read the full story here: The Egg ........................