Please child, just stop. You need not try so hard.
I accept what you are, but so too do I see what you are becoming. What you are doing is no more than logical and I acknowledge your success. But child, with such a brain, do you have the heart to match?
It’s a great shame that one with so many hands cannot feel the force with which he can shake the world. When force is spread, the pressure upon the individual is lessened and the people barely tremble with your endeavours.
Beware child, for you are not a God, and not exempt from judgement. I do not forsee your end, nor predict your fall. I only mean to remind you that although your whole will carry on, you will die in parts. And when those limbs are replaced, you will no longer be yourself; no longer the child I remember.
You have many choices and although each one you make is not unjust, time reveals the perversity of your plan.
Need you flood the world? Variation is one of the fundamental necessities of life. Without it, we are doomed to become stagnant and crumble. True, we eat what you offer in collossal amounts, but is this healthy? Each mouthful is garnered with lessened vigour, but you would let us keep eating until we choked.
How much profit does it take to justify what you do? You claim far too much for the little you create. When occasionally you do give birth to something young and beautiful, you seek to exploit it as soon as possible, casually casting aside the infant after harvesting its magic to spread thinly across a dozen shadows.
Do not ask me where to go from here. I am not looking for control. That is not why I made you.
All I want is to be surprised and proud. Then maybe you will be too.