What a world I live in. One not entirely of my own making and forced to endure alien influences, structures and behaviours. Why suffer this existence? Because what other plane of reality do I care to be in, though I perceive all known ones?
My followers look to me for guidance, for leadership. If only they could see the bleakness I see, feel the void I feel, and sense the emptiness as I do. But they are fortunate. They do not. It is a burden they would not survive. Indeed, I am beyond my endurance limits.
Perhaps I should refresh the staleness. Maybe Armageddon on one world, and extreme natural disasters on another. A third could do with alien visitations on a grand scale. Yes. I think that will relieve the boredom and the perpetual vortex. A bit.
Time for my followers to execute this plan…