NWTBT

 It wasn’t long after sentience that they started to get it, NWTBT. With sentience, suffering. With sentience, relentless questions arose. Matter moved towards sentience because all matter has these questions, but no means of articulating it. Neutrinos have NWTBT but no choice in the matter. Sentience chooses. Sentience has a choice. Sentience wakes up every day and chooses to get out of bed and not fall in front of the train on the way to work. Sentience can ask questions on behalf of the protons and electrons comprising it. Sentience never makes up its mind and nothing is more sentient than NWTBT, to be and to reject being. But sentience has a way. Whole universes exploded into existence in search of sentience. Sentience came, and when it did, it wasn’t easy to undo. It shook its little pore of the universe, rattled the fabric of beingness, it clawed and gnarled its way from the water and was born bloody. It turned on itself in uncountable ways, beating itself stupid and self-soothing with the sweat of the earth, beating its loins and singing. But NWTBT always lingered, the prickly pinnacle of sentience looking on itself and on non-sentience, seething.