The Diary

At the dawn of time, before stars ignited or galaxies took shape, before the very concept of "before" existed, there was an ancient being. It had no name, no purpose, no need for the trivialities that mortals might comprehend.

It had played a role in creation—nudging chaos into order, spinning galaxies like trinkets, whispering life into existence—but after eons of cosmic work, there was one thing the ancient being had never anticipated.

It got bored.

Eras passed. Life rose, evolved, crumbled, and began again, over and over. Predictable. Stars flared and faded. Empires thrived and fell. Monotonous.

Then, something unexpected happened. A tiny, insignificant moment in the infinite stretch of time.

It heard a voice.

A young, human voice.

“Dear Diary…”

The ancient being stilled. It had listened to countless prayers, desperate pleas, and cosmic screams over the millennia. But this voice? This one was different.

Casual. Unbothered. As if the universe were nothing more than background noise to her personal monologue.

“You won’t believe what happened today!”

The ancient being listened, intrigued.

“Dear Diary, can you believe he dumped me? Out of nowhere! He said I was too ‘clingy.’”

A pause.

“Like, excuse me, I’m not clingy. I just care! Ugh, men are the worst. Anyway, Diary, what’s the point of all this? Same job, same people, same… everything. I’m bored. My life is just so… ordinary.”

The being grinned for the first time in eons.

Ordinary?

That could be fixed.

It leaned closer, amused by this mortal's complaints. A therapist, she claimed to be, though the being could sense she wasn’t exactly… qualified.

And then, an idea.

It had not meddled with the universe in ages.

Why not… play?

With a flick of its will, reality shifted.

Her small, drab office was now connected to the multiverse—a liminal space between dimensions. Whenever she sat in her chair, anything could happen.

Every legend. Every god. Every impossible story.

All real. All walking through her door.

The ancient being chuckled.

This was going to be fun.

---

Dear Diary,

Something insane happened today.

I know I say that a lot, but THIS? Next-level weird.

So, I’m sitting at my desk, scrolling through Instagram (don’t judge me, I was researching!), when BAM—my office door swings open.

And who walks in?

A freakin’ griffin.

I screamed. Not even a cool scream. It was like a dying squirrel.

But the griffin? It just stared at me. Like, “Sup? You got time for a session?”

And I’m sitting there, trying to process the fact that this mythological creature wants therapy.

Then it plops down on my couch (which, FYI, is NOT designed for horse-sized birds of prey), sighs dramatically, and starts venting.

Apparently, it has an identity crisis.

“People see me as a beast, but I have thoughts, emotions! Am I more lion or eagle? What am I truly?”

And I’m like, “I…uh…see.” Because WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A GRIFFIN HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL BREAKDOWN?

Then the next client walks in.

It’s a baby dragon.

A literal dragon.

At this point, I’m two seconds from googling “symptoms of a mental breakdown.”

And then? I hear a voice.

Not a normal voice. Something ancient. Something… watching.

"I thought your life could use some variety."

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN??

Whoever—or whatever—did this, congratulations. My life is now officially unhinged.

Also, I should probably start charging more.

Anyway, gotta run. My next client is a ghost with social anxiety.

Wish me luck.

---

And so, her life became far from ordinary.

The ancient being watched in amusement, nudging reality here and there to keep the chaos going.

After all, what’s the point of existing for eternity if you can’t have a little fun?