The Universe is as old as the oldest person alive. Ask far. Are you the life giver? As far as I’m concerned, the world only came into existence when my perception allowed it. As much as I hate being alone, I’ll declare your existence—you, the other—a replica of my conscious awareness. I choose to make you, and in doing so, I owe you the past that’s out of my reach. If you’re older than me, you’re more godlike than me. Yet, forever. For, ask far. How could you be if there will come a day when you cease to exist? When your light goes out, the Universe never existed, nor did you. How can that be? If you will never have been, how is it possible that you exist now? Your secret side of existence—the non-existent—always benefits from you being alive. Ask far. How is it that you’ll cease to exist and become your side that can’t be expressed nor cease to be in undergoing treatment? You won’t. You can’t die. You’re destined to perpetually repeat this existence over and over again. You’re doing it right now. You’re repeating your act of existence infinitely, all at the same time, right now. Answer far, and you are the ever-unfolding loop that vibrates and reverberates, overlapping layers of self-recycling planes of manifested expressions of yourself. The time you were told about the biography of the Universe, you were fooled into believing in time since the last time, which is now. You could jump onto that fragment of your lifetime if you wanted, and gracefully, you should know by now that you’ve just done so. You’ve already come back into this moment once again, and you’ve already left it, to happen for the rest of your replay, and eternally, once again, you are doing it. In doing so, the rest unborn is the unseen that will dawn Universal Act 3 and has already been, just like the first act that’s always reeling and feeling the same way you do, day after day. The sun never died. At least, not for us.
- If we could all die at the same time, could we break free from the program?
- We are being played.
- By whom?
- I saw a dark silhouette permeating the red layers of existence with a super-intriguing aura. It vanished before I could say, “Hello.”
- That means...
- That’s as close as I came to the exit door.
- I’m sorry. Truly.
- You don’t have to be. The only reason I’m telling you all this is because it’s inevitable.
- Same thing.
- The one thing I keep asking myself is: ask far—would it make a difference if, with every repeating cycle, the level of appreciation for reality reaches a deeper layer, and in doing so, there’s a way to get closer to the exit?
- You’re saying, every time the loop does its thing—which is always, endlessly overlapping and repeating—it generates a stronger centrifugal force that pulls us further toward the edge of the game?
- Answer far! Only if, during the time of consideration, our grasp of the game becomes more stable. That would mean that each time, meeting the dark silhouette will become a more intimate encounter.
- Every time. Always. Now. It’s an opportunity to face it, fearlessly!
- It never helps, no matter what feelings we try to rule in or out. Ask far: is the key to understanding still out of reach?
- Is it possible that it’s you?
- I’m sorry?
- You fear the moment when you know.
- I don’t. Are you Shiva?
- As long as you wish to be the guy who left the palace for a walk.
- You know what? I was having fun talking to myself.
- Tune out, brother. You get seasick peeking into other realms. What were you saying? Shiva?
- The gray fog… calling. Answer far. Answer now.
- You back for good? Hey!
- It’s been beautiful but overwhelming.
- Perspective is the reward of the second after. It's a sacrifice….
- Yeah.