I have never before committed these words to paper nor computer, afraid to see the evidence of my own insanity lain out before me. Alas, I can no longer keep this to myself, for reasons that I would prefer not to discuss.
This is a recounting of a social experiment I organized when I was still in my adolescent years, something I regret with all my being.
It started as an attempt, in my obscene vanity, to disprove the existence of God. I was an agnostic at this point of my life, and it seemed to me that if I could disprove something as huge as God, I would have accomplished something incredible in my life. And what young man doesn't wish to have a claim to the spotlight, even if it is for infamy?
The project was a simple one, in context. I would prove that God doesn't exist by showing that anyone could become God, simply by having 3 things to show:
3: Extremists in each direction.
To me, the question was simple: What was a God? A god, to me, was anyone who was worshipped as such. A being with omniscience and omnipotence was merely a monster until it was revered. Likewise, a mere mortal who had people believing in him, worshiping him, PRAYING to him, was a God.
So I started. In chat rooms, having one of my closest friends (he'll remain nameless here) to go into these chat rooms, usually self help chats full of gullible agnostics, young and old, and explain to them that he knew a person who could make things feel normal, make you feel like you belong, and make sense of your life. All it took was 2 computers in the same room for him to lure them in, and me to show up "out of the blue" as though it was preordained.
A simple trick to be sure, but it fascinated those weak enough to be pulled in.
We got the original 10 that way.
We included these people into a group for philosophical discussion, which shall remain nameless. We talked about many things, keeping the topics reasonable until the members grew accustomed to talking about their feelings and accepting other explanations of said topics as a possibility for being true. That was one major rule for the group; never simply discount another person's opinion. Always keep your mind open.
Enough of that process, and anyone will believe you if you say that the person who organized the group--The person who appeared as though out of nowhere--was God, or could be so, given the right circumstances. After that, it was a simple matter of expanding on what we already accomplished: making our members want…no, need to be more than they were. Part of something grand. Incredible. Meaningful. Beautiful.
Make them want to be loved and touched by a God who could promise them that they'd be happy, so long as they believed in Him.
For the longest time, the power trip was wonderful; to be talked to by everyone in the group, eventually having people by the dozens, and the count breaching 100, having all these people wanting to be loved by Deus. By the God who promised them happiness, and delivered simply by being there for them. For taking part in philosophical discussions, maybe one out of every 20 or 30, it didn't matter. When Deus showed up, the crowds gathered and worshipped, much like the other false prophets throughout history.
They all prayed, every night (or so they said), and it brought them joy, happiness, and made their lives "so great!". The worshipers were happy, the worshiped had fallen in love with the power, and all seemed well. But as you are all no doubt aware, that's never meant to last.
The calls began. People calling my house, wanting to speak with Deus. How they got my number, I have no clue. They called at all times of the day, some from elsewhere in North America, some from other places entirely! My inbox was flooded with emails from people who wanted advice, or to confess sins to me, or just to know that I, being Deus, would answer their emails to let them know I felt their love and returned it.
People from overseas emailed me, as well. Emails from people who claimed to be on journeys to find this God, Deus, and to join them.
I also started to notice that people were fighting against us, in chat rooms. People were calling us cyber terrorists, saying we were a cult, saying that they would see us disbanded, see our brainwashed patrons freed…
I think it was at that point I knew two things:
1. I needed to disband the group, drop it cold and wash my hands of it.
2. My experiment had been a complete success.
I won't supply anyone with my names or the names of others, even if someone were to post the name I use online, that not only changes constantly, but also changes on everything I sign up for.
This is it. That's all I can write about the Deus Project; I'll refuse to write more under any circumstances. What I've told is the truth, and even if it's not believed, I've already washed my hands of it; refusing to believe this story is actually beneficial to me, as I wouldn't want any of the old members to find me again. To know where I currently live. To begin the worship of Deus once more.