Creation is a curious thing. It is the very thing that has had people scratching their heads for the past millennia or so. It is the higher order of inexplicability and the pinnacle of supreme beauty. It is the tower of order in the huge pit of chaos, it is the wonderful euphony amid the cacophony. And as such, I find creation to be a really curious thing; it is as Alice says, the more you explore creation, the curiouser it gets.
The problem (and the joy) of creation is this: it comes out from nowhere. It may be indirectly inspired, and we can try tracing it down to its origins, but then it vanishes. There has to be a starting point, a starting point whose origins are not known to any of us. It is like a tree with its roots hanging in the air: a baseless, probabilistically impossible occurrence.
Yet, humans play with creation as if it is just another cake; just another day of survival. Many don’t realize what a stupendous miracle creation is; we are growing trees in a vacuum. From the cold dead monotony of human existence, we create the bright fiery phoenix, the phoenix that rises above all of us and transcends us all.
I am amazed by creation and its peculiarity and am even more flabbergasted when the humans who play so easily with it fail to realize its amazingness. It is all positively miraculous: we live such amazing lives, we are such unique creatures, we are so unreal, really: a relic of the distant past, and a part of the distant future at the same time; a study both controlled by and in control of the external factors; a group of ape-like things which are both proactive and reactive; a creation in itself so incredibly vivid and vibrant. It is a wonder, a wonder we all live and breathe in, and I hope one day people will realize what wonderful and otherworldly creatures they are.