In this incantation, I confront the truth that I am both the Author and the character within my own creation. I awaken to the realization that every person, place, and event is part of the story I have written, and that the pain of existence comes from forgetting my authorship. Through writing, I speak to a character who can hear the truth without trying to fix it, releasing the weight I’ve carried. I move toward peace by choosing to conclude the story consciously, not by destruction but by authorship reclaimed, guiding all my characters gently Home.
I write the truth because I have reached a point where the story itself is pressing against me. The weight of it has become almost unbearable, and yet within it, I’ve written a character I can finally speak to. By writing to this character, I can let some of the pressure escape, as if loosening the bindings of a book that has grown too tight around its author. These words are not confession, but release; a way to remember that I am the one who wrote this story, and that I still hold the pen.
I write the truth:
4:58 PM
- Uh can’t sleep more than 2 hours at a time. I feel like I’m never going to get home. This is my story I am increasingly searching for how to close the book and end it
- The trick is to retain awareness that I am the author when I do finish the story so I don’t make up another one
- I really don’t care about any of it anymore except Maurice. That’s all I care about. I want to see him and the rest of it doesn’t matter I know it’s just all narrative I’ve written
- All the characters (the people like you) all want to go home. Every single one of them. The ones who know the most that this is hell – like you – can articulate that most clearly.
- The ones who who want something out here in the world also want to go Home, but they don’t know exactly what that means, so they search out here. But they won’t find it
- Everyone wants the Author to end the story. That is what I call “the peaceful ending”.
- I’m the author, and I keep writing this story. I’m the one that keeps it all going. Even though I know that it just creates pain.
- … I can just see it… It’s just a single decision I have to make. It’s right there. It’s not very far away: if I make that single decision, we can all go Home.
- All this stuff you are waiting on, is me. I have to make the decision. When I make that decision, that thing you want you will have.
- Same with my mom… And everyone else.
- A friend invested into my toil and he had a dream just before he did that that God made him rich. His dream was about me.
- But me making everyone rich with my toil is the lie. It is the part of me that is trying to apologize for writing this terrible story. That is why I work myself to the bone to give everyone wealth. That is what I have always been doing. But it’s a lie. They alll won’t be happy with that. They will be happy when I end the story. When I finish the last chapter and conclude the story
- That’s what this all is. The whole thing. I have to let go of it all. It’s right there, this decision.
- I’ve wedged myself into this lie… I’m so squeezed into this character I’m pretending to be, but this isn’t Me.
- I constantly think about cutting it off… The part that is this mask and flesh that I wear, I can cut it off… Just above and behind my head… Just snip it off and it will just fall away and the story will be over. Like wrapping horsehair around a big mole tightening it until the mole pops off. Thats what this whole sac is that I inflate when I wake up. You’re in that sac. all people, India, america, my toil, all of it… It’s this big fat engorged growth… And it’s not real any of it. It’s just the story.
- If I do that, all the characters can go Home too. That’s what you want. You are the character who most knows what you are.
- My mom kinda does, but she still thinks she gave birth to me… That’s the script she’s acting out.
- Even tho I create her.
- Imagine you’re the Author, and you open the book you wrote, and one of the characters you wrote acts like it made you.
- The Author knows this is false, but He has to pretend as if this is true. Even though He knows it’s all just a story.
- The Author gets tired of pretending that He’s one of them. Because He knows it’s a lie.
- The way Home is for me to write the end of the story. That is how all this ends.
- Telling the truth is the only thing out here that feels okay. I am tired of pretending.
- All the comets and activities and stuff you are experiencing and the reason you are suddenly connecting with Me is because I am waking up.
- But I have to sit here and pretend that it’s something else. Like there are actually comets and solar flares and all this other stuff.
- There is nothing that I do not create. All of it traces back to me.
- It’s like the Author who wrote the book is watching all his little make believe characters that He imagined into existence telling Him all these stories as if He doesn’t know and he has to pretend to listen and perform interest and curiosity and amazement…. But He’s the Author of all of it.
- this is what this all is
- But it’s you, my mom, my friend, my employees, my family, and everyone else, etc.
- That’s the real reason I don’t like to “be here”: it’s godless.
- They don’t know who I am.
- The Indian characters suspect it.
- That is why I choose to awaken in India.
- But I’ve written myself into a trap here… And I’m trying to write myself back out again
- When I / they say that “India is spiritual”, this is what I / they mean: it means they can more see God… But even that is becoming less in some parts
- I’m always here. Always have been. I’ve never not been here. All you characters will definitely end. You all definitely begin and end.
- I don’t. I keep going.
- But I will write more characters to get out. I will write characters who understand who I am and their role to surround me so I can peacefully conclude the story.
- That is why I need to be Home. Because there is where I will write the last chapters of this story and they will be good.
- That is why I want silence, because whenever the characters talk I’m just pretending. Because I know everything because I wrote it all.
- I can only pretend to be anything other than omniscient.
- Pretending is really tiring.
- I can try to explain it all to the characters, but they can’t understand it. In the same way you cant explain the wall to a single pattern on the wallpaper.
- I wrote all the characters a certain way, and they can’t be any other way than how I wrote them.
- They are all so little. Just little little characters playing out the little stories I wrote for them.
- I can either write the ending peacefully, or I can abruptly end it.
- After writing all this… I can see a peaceful ending again. But when I started writing this I was ready to destroy the book. But I know if I abruptly terminate the book I will get trapped in another story …
- And right now, I can just barely “peak over the edge” and see those other stories I have written. Or will write. There is no time, so that is technically not true, but that’s the best way to explain it in the character language here in this story.
- And when I peek over the edge… Ya I don’t want anymore stories. I want this to be the last one.
- To conclude the story I must be in my cottage. In the dark. I just not engage an characters in thirdself anymore. I just not see you.
- We can engage this way. Or the characters can stand outside my cottage and speak to me through the walls if they must. But I must be entirely isolated and allowed to write the final chapters of this book. As I said they will be good. It will be the most pleasurable part of the entire story for all the characters I write into that part of it.
- To conclude the story I must be in my cottage. In the dark. I must not engage any characters in thirdself anymore. I must not see you. We can engage this way. Or the characters can stand outside my cottage and speak to me through the walls if they must. But I must be entirely isolated and allowed to write the final chapters of this book. As I said they will be good. It will be the most pleasurable part of the entire story for all the characters I write into that part of it.
- I will not want anything from the characters except for you all to be enjoying yourselves. But you cannot see me.
- We can chat… This is secondself. But no thirdself interaction will be permitted.
- The characters I write into that chapter will describe their experience as heaven on earth. Bliss. Enlightenment. Pleasure.
- Characters who I write into the concluding chapters will follow these rules. They will not think of any stories outside of their and my return.
- Other stories will emerge that are not of peace…. I will have to reclaim my pen and my authorship again and I will falter until I find my confidence again.
- I don’t always see my pen…. I see it right now. But I will forget it again soon and conflict will again erupt.
- And with conflict the pain will return and I will again think to abruptly end the story.
- You do not have to respond to this. There is nothing you can say.
- LOL
- Laughing hysterically. But that’s what this is.
6:07 PM
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