The Two Universes

This is a series (in a series...) of writings I will be doing... As far as I know, no one else has come up with this theory or talked about this in this way. If it is original, well it first appeared here. (Photo: The poisionous itch of skin)

Why are we here? I know people usually attach this question with the notion of destiny. Destiny is not a path and not an explanation, it's not a reason. Everything we do. Everything that life does. Is to try to create stasis and order. It has many forms: reproduction, obsession, manipulation, accumulation, etc. We're trying to control the universe through puppet strings. Why?
There are two universes. One immaterial, transient, omniscient, potential, non-local. The other is very similar to what we think of as reality, only blank, darkness, and void... but stable. What was the universe before the big-bang? Very hot and very small? It wasn't. But something happened. Was it a question? A collision? I'm not sure. But here we are conscious protrusions of one reality into another.
Only we never entered. It's like a puppet show. I think "TYPE IN ALL CAPITALS" and it happens. The actor pushes a series of buttons and keys, he does what I tell him (most of the time) like a good little puppet. And I play with the puppet, and we play all my favorite games. I love the puppet. Not only can I move him about but with practice I can see through his eyes, hear the sounds he hears. I can even make him talk. It's like it's me on stage, saving the day and getting the girl.
We think we are that thing in the mirror, on the tiny stage. We are not. Although we are so entertained by the multitude of new tricks and old tricks it can do. It keeps it's shape. It has stasis. It has memory. Even a glass of water has memory. Through all this manipulation we think we own this reality. We made that thing. We stare at the puppet and scream "I made you!" We gave the dark chaotic void order and reason.
What does it want?
What does master want?
What do you want?
I dunno, what do you want?
How foolish we must seem to the rest of existence talking to ourselves like this? How narcissistic. We are addicts. We are all on drugs, addicted to material life, and it's bullshit. Ask any ghost you know or might happen to meet.
My real worry is not "What does it want?" I think I know. But I'm not sure if we can severe the bond and split ourselves into a autonomous and yet incomplete soul to inhabit this "material reality." I don't want to. Then again if your like me, and you've read the Precession of Simulacra by Baudrillard, then you worry that there might a lot of reasons to worry.