Semi-Coherent Rant About Reality

The more I look into the ideas I had in my previous life, the more terrified I am, if for no other reason than they seem to be the topic of serious discussions.

The universe as a simulation?  There are people who have treated that as a serious topic of discussion.

The universe as a hologram?  That’s pretty much considered a solid theory.

And what’s beyond this hologram or simulation?  Are we all dead and lying in cold pac?  Or is that what the Black Iron Prison really is, a false reality that we’re stuck in?  If our world really is a simulation, who is running this show and what do they want?

And how did I end up here, if I was Phil?  Shouldn’t I have transcended?  Unless there really is no hope of transcendence or unless I was captured before I could ascend…

I’m beginning to wonder if anything matters, or if there is any way off of this ride.  That’s the leap of faith that Gnosticism, Buddhism, and Hinduism ask of us: to believe that it is possible to wake up from the endless dream and return to our true home in literal union with the divine.  But I know from my previous life’s writings that I thought for sure I was free and I didn’t fear death.

Was I cheated?  Was I foiled?  Or was I just deluded into thinking I’d be free when I had too many attachments and flaws to work out?  I know in Buddhism it’s believed that it takes many enlightened lives to achieve freedom from Samsara and become a Boddhisattva who can either return at will or leave as they please.  But what if that’s just a meaning-defining myth to mollify those who thought they were going to escape, only to reincarnate and remember that their hopes had been dashed?

I could go in some dark places with the likely conjectures from all of this.  I could eventually drive myself insane trying to figure it out.  I could also go about living my life trying to forget what I’ve learned about the path my soul has taken, but that feels unnatural and so unlike me.

I hope that everyone who said that this reality is a simulation is wrong but I have no reason to disbelieve them.  Whenever my current avatar dies, I’m constantly rebooted into another with a partial memory wipe and only a vague sense of who my previous avatar was.  But who is the player behind these avatars?  Who am I, or is there an “I” behind them at all?  What is real and how do I wake up, if I choose to reject falsehood?

I just want the truth.  I want to live beyond illusions.  I want to transcend.  I want to end this cycle of rebooting into a pointless realm of surrogate activity.  It’s fun being a science fiction writer and all but the real intelligence behind me, I think, must be so much more than that if it can be all these things I remember being.

Buddhists say that by wanting enlightenment, you become attached to the idea of enlightenment and defeat your own purpose.  But is that true?  How can I not want the only thing that, so far as I can tell, is real?

I’ll play out this scene where I’m a struggling writer one more time, but I don’t want to do it again.  I hope I figure out a way to either fade from the picture and unexist, or else a lasting solution to not mind existing so much.

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