These words may well be the last embers of a dying mind, a dying world. I ask that you read them, and heed their warning.
I never did this to help anybody. I did this because I believed there was truth, and I believed that was the most important thing.
I went to space. That’s no small thing. I had traveled the into the deepest mountain ranges, meeting with the hermits and the monks, questing to learn their secrets. I studied physics, probed the smallest of the subatomic particles, learned to visualize objects in 10 dimensions. Fourteen on a good day. I visited the lost kingdom of Proteus with my friend Bo Shiva, learning about the technologies present before the fall and collapse of that civilization.
Through religion and science, and all the rituals of human achievement, success in business and family life, I worked and worked to find truth, yet it eluded me. I found myself unsatisfied and unconvinced that what I saw was anything other than an artifact of firing of neurons in my own brain. What I wanted was something real and I wanted something true.
I worked with my friend John X to build a spacecraft that could take me to the farthest singularity. I voyaged to the edge of a solar system and continued rocketing along the byways of space until I reached the end, the limit I had always thought. I rowed my boat to the end of the world.
Let’s call it a doorway. I thought it would take me to new and unexplored territories, but as my ship passed into the white light in front of me, I felt myself dissolving.
As an aside while I describe my disincorporation, let me mention that there should be no end to space; space time should curve in on itself as its is shaped by the force of gravitation; however, there are singularities, places where space and time come together into the same domain. Was it a black hole? If I had entered a black hole, I would never pass through it.