I was thinking about Nietzsche...

Somewhere in the dark of a Cave, a tiny awareness violently pierced the rock like the tip of a pickaxe. The intensity of being took the stone unaware and it cried out. It's voice echoed through itself, sending great wave-like shudders out of the Cave and through the mountain. Dislodged boulders crashed into trees and scraped down the slopes, pulling away the clawing roots and causing birds to flap away, screaming in fear. The snows shifted and slid, sending soothing whiteness to the new wound of sentiency.


For thousands of years, the mountain stood, blinded by feeling, unable to do anything but experience. The seasons cycled; the blissful numbness of winter and the contrasting warm itchiness of summer. The Cave became home to wolves and bats and other tiny scratching creatures; the mountain shivered in annoyance but the creatures didn't leave.

Finally the mountain shook until something inside cracked. Agony rippled through the stone as more and more convulsions passed through it. And suddenly molten blood poured through the mountain's veins. Fissures and chasms filled with it and the mountain's innards burned. Steam and smoke rushed out of cracks to the surface. The mountain's pain was tempered only by the satisfaction that the animals had run away howling.

The magma continued to flow outward and suddenly burst through the top and rushed down the sides of the mountain. The trees burned and when it cooled everything was calm. The mountain was at ease for the first time in it's existence.


Hundreds more years passed. The trees grew again and a hermit made his painstaking way up the slope. At the point of exhaustion he found the Cave and crawled inside. Warm air from cracks in the walls warmed him and the hermit found the Cave an ideal location for his meditations.

As the mountain's ponderous consciousness became aware of the man, it started trembling again, trying to work a poorly anchored boulder in the Cave to a point where it would roll. The boulder slowly shifted until it finally moved. The being in the Cave regarded the the boulder curiously and walked into the tunnel it had revealed.

The tunnel led to a deep hole in the ground. The philosopher looked into the abyss and the abyss looked back into the philosopher. The mountain's earthy monotone awareness saw the bright and flashing colors of the human thoughts. The vivid colors spiraled into the mountain's mind and it, he, understood thought.


The mountain retreated into himself and thought. He was so withdrawn in his contemplation that he forgot the trees and animals. After many years, the brightening colors of his ruminations woke him. The mountain remembered his petty annoyances and forgave the creatures that he gave a home to. He took joy in their quickness. As he observed them, though, he started to pity himself and wished for the creatures' mobility and brilliance.

And as he wondered at their ability to change, an idea came to him. He directed vibrations and slowly crafted a hollow in the chasm in the Cave. When it was done he filled it with magma. The magma cooled and he poured his awareness into the body.

The body was in the image of the man who had looked into him. The mountain lay in his hollow until he understood the mechanics of the body. Then he stood slowly and walked out of the Cave.


The mountain saw a town full of people and went towards it down his own side. His stone body became lighter and more limber as he walked and soon he was human.

When the mountain reached the town and people asked him where he'd come from he couldn't answer; he had no language. As he watched them he learned to speak. A family gave him a name and taught him the rules of society.

The mountain lived in the town for the span of a human life. He enjoyed the company of humans and their cleverness and intelligence. He ate delightful foods and loved and married a girl. The life slipped by quicker than he could comprehend but he made the most of it.

And then the girl -- the old woman -- died. The mountain's stone heart broke and he walked out onto himself in a daze. He walked and walked until he reached the Cave; all the while his now-old body became heavier and harder to move. He stumbled stiffly into the passage behind the boulder and curled up into the hollow.


His mind leaked out into the mountain again. The brightly colored human thoughts faded into earth tones again and the mountain became a mountain. He wondered why he had lived as a human when he could have lived for millions of years as a mountain. And then he realized that while he had lived a shorter life, he had not lived in the tormenting boredom he would have endured as a mountain. He had loved and experienced life. As this thought came to him, he was at peace. His dark thoughts became darker until he could no longer understand them. The slowing moving colors no longer seemed to be thoughts at all. The mountain lived no more.