Thought Fifty Eight

In the guest bathroom in my home, there are two mirrors. These are in the outer room where the sinks are. Late one night, as I was exiting, I looked into the mirrors. It was about two in the morning and, I could see my image off into infinity. On both sides.

On both sides.

When I raised my hand, I saw my gun rise and fall. In a thousand images, I watch my hand come up and go down. Looking at this, I thought about a thousand billion realities and possibilities that might be.

If in this reality, if I were being hurt or to die, would I not forward my sense of being, my “I” into this reality? And would the next version of me be lost or pushed into another version of the “I”?

That would make sense.

But what if each of these thousand billion realities is only slightly different, then you would need to move even further away from these realities to come to a different of “Most probably outcomes”TM.

That would seem likely as well.

Then perhaps if you choose to “see” like a god, then you would see of these thousands of billions of realities all at once (and not go insane). Then you would know where to move your consciousness (or sense of “I”).

The funny or not funny part of the consciousness or sense of “I” is that, would you even know that you had changed. Or this all at one in that you could feel it all and, perhaps even lose the sense of “I” as you allow yourself to remember what you are.

I don’t think the gods remember who they are. If they did, then they wouldn’t be gods and by their nature consumptive gods then.


To think that even the gods themselves do not remember. Perhaps it is the remembering that we desire most. To remember is to perhaps “ascend” as the Buddhists say.

At least for me, remember is important.



For if I remember, would I lose the enjoyment of creating everything literally from the big bang event horizon across a thousand billion realities (or at least set it in motion)?

I am not sure.

Remember and participate at the smallest level. The people around you. Even the gods themselves would shake with fear, for they would not begin to understand you, nor what you do. And so the endless cycle begins again, ever moving forward.

A beginning with no conceivable ending. For the ending would always be the beginning no?




Author: Robertus Invictus Maximus

Walking alone, in this the white desert.

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