…I got to the point where the human being that took the mushrooms realised
that they were not up to it (it was more than I could handle) and so somehow I
died or was otherwise extinguished in the maelstrom.
In order for the space time continuum to continue with the minimum disruption
and distress (of the consequences of my death I suppose) I imagined and to some
extent felt that another
being from the end of time was beamed back to replace me (something like in 'The
Terminator'). It was a bit confusing as to whether this entity had volunteered
or had been volunteered (was being punished for some transgression committed in
the eternal dimension beyond time)... - I have however since found a
fascinating article>> which I can relate to.
Anyhow, there seemed to be two principal experiences going on. A being was
going forth into a new dimension (the old me that was dying), and a new being
was coming back from another dimension (to replace the old me). Or rather, this
is a way of telling a story about what happened in order to convey some sense of
the weirdness. My experience seemed multi-faceted. With this there were also
issues to do with morality, self-control and self-hatred, and another part of me
was desperately trying to unite and consolidate the information coming from the
In trying to find something in common between a strange unknown future world
and the more familiar past world, my mind was trying to somehow establish the
fundamentals of all reality. What it was made of? What were its constituents? I
was trying to conceive, for example, of the fundamentals of matter. I saw that
to call something, say, an electron, did not tell you what is was, so I couldn't
simply satisfy myself that the world was made of atoms, and atoms were made of
protons, neutrons and electrons. I had to dig deeper.
It seemed that, fundamentally, for a thing to be a thing, it must have some
attributes that define it. Well, at least one attribute. So what's really
important are fundamental attributes. Most things have multiple attributes and, in
being combinations of attributes, are therefore not fundamental. My mind was
jumping all over the place. I realised that this was an obsessive thing to be
worrying about in the midst of dying, and that my obsession was an indication
that, worse than dying, I was losing control. Whatever final state I ended up in
I would no doubt be insane.
This nauseated me; I was nauseated at my greediness to know it all. I was
dizzy and sweating. My mind was collapsing. In the attempt to get the
fundamentals I was losing everything. But, since I had no self-control anyway, I
must have somehow figured that there was no choice but to get to the
fundamentals. In an attempt to get it over with I thought I might ‘cut to the
chase’ by jumping to something that must be fundamental, then building on
that. Otherwise it felt like a constant downward spiral.
1's and 0's, surely these must be at the heart of things, irreducible. It's
all that computers need. Something either exists or it doesn't. I don't know
what the thing might be, but it either exists or it doesn't. …It seemed
limited. Was it enough with which to build everything? Numbers, mathematics,
could reality be built with mathematics? If so, with 0's and 1's? And if so, why
were the numbers 2 and 3 persisting in my head? Why could I not let go of these?
No, 0 and 1’s were not numbers, they did not count the number of any thing.
As I maybe somehow realised instantly but only fully reasoned later, to count
the number of any things you need at least two things. You see a thing on it's
own, uniquely, and it is simply there, you do not count it. 1 is not a number,
it's a logical signifier of existence. Likewise, zero a signifier of
non-existence. Hmmm, 1's and 0's not numbers, but still, might be handy to keep
as fundamentals of some sort.
The lowest fundamental number was obviously 2. I was receiving some kind of
information loud and clear to that effect. As I figured later, you can count two
things. And three things? For that you need the number 3. And that's all you
need. All the other numbers can be made from 2 and 3.
This sounds quite reasoned
the way I have put it, but in reality the numbers 2 and 3 seemed to have just
popped into my head. At the time the rational side of me was more of a hindrance
than a help, because I reasoned no such thing. The numbers just were there,
insistent, and it was quite a struggle to accept their fundamental nature rather
than just react to them as fanciful and crazy. For example, the idea seemed to want
to overreach itself in its application. I tried to disprove its absoluteness or
quickly limit how far it could be pushed by thinking of some more sophisticated
entities, as if to show to myself that there was a still a great gulf
of understanding to be crossed.
Dolphins and seals, - now these ‘concepts’
were obviously much richer and more complex. But, while this was granted to a great
extent, almost as instantaneously as I thought of them, the number 2 assigned
itself to the notion of a dolphin and the number 3 to that of a seal. Now this I
could not attempt to rationalise either then or now, only to emphasise that
rather than seem simply absurd, the number assignment had resonance, so I
let it be. Part of me accepted that I had found some fundamentals. And I had
The collapse had stopped. All I had to do now was build a reality out of the
numbers 2 and 3, and the logical signifiers of existence 0 and 1.
Whatever sense can be made of this they way I have described it, it was made
more confusing still by the breakdown of recognisable language. Because at the
same time as my world and mind was collapsing came my first experience of what I
later (more positively) called ‘future language’.
Language itself seemed to be getting lost in the reduction to fundamentals. I
had a brief intuition along the way that its construction, out of an alphabet
(so many letters!) meant that it was going to have to be lost. But how could I
understand anything without language? It was a paradox. There was so much
paradox! The utterances that could be managed, either out loud or in my head, were
somehow corrupt. I didn't understand all the words, but I remembered some of
them, the ones that were most often repeated, words like, forstold, and
Anyway, given the inexpressible complexities, the multifarious and
paradoxical aspects, there was still a distinct feeling of relief once the
collapse bottomed out. I wasn't sure what sort of reality I could build with my
self deduced fundamental units of meaning and my broken language, but there was
a little breathing space.
I was lying in the dark of my bedroom, curled in a ball with my eyes closed,
not knowing where or who I was. It seemed a good idea that I should use my
senses as well as my mind to establish what was going on. I felt that this could
maybe return me faster to a more complete reality. There was some conflict,
since I felt I that I was getting somewhere with the ideas of fundamentals and
got some things of value out of it, but I didn't particularly want to build my
own universe if I didn’t have to. I wanted to return to as complete a reality
as possible as quickly as possible.
A good way to do this seemed to be not to cling too much to my already
'reasoned' fundamental units of meaning, seeing what I could slowly build with
them, but to use my full range of senses, my awareness of things, intuition and
perception, whatever I could remember. I was glad I realised this, because,
though I felt that the fundamentals that I had found were interesting and
useful, I did not think they were complete.
Lying in the dark I became aware of myself as a conscious entity, I became
aware of the phenomena of space. Things existed in space. I could imagine myself
as an entity in space, floating in space, having space around me. What were the
attributes of space, my awareness of it?
I did not know where I was but I recalled the attributes of orientation,
orientation in space. Not all directions were the same, up was different to
down. I did not know which was which, but in principle there was a
I slowly got to my feet. The realisation allowed movement; - the two were
almost synchronous. I looked up, …that was up, and below, …that was down.
These dimensions did not seem particularly accessible, it rather seemed that I
existed mostly on a flat plane. I could move about on the flat plane fairly
easily, without thinking about it. But when I looked up I did not fly through
the ceiling like perhaps I could, and below, …the floor was suspending me.
It seemed a bit of a limitation, not to worry; other information was starting
to come through. So I could move about on a flat plane. There were objects; I
was in a room. I could move from one room to another room. Sizes and shapes
might be different, but once you got the hang of one room that was it, just
repetition of the same concept. I had numbers that would allow for
multiplication. And I could move about.
I lived in some sort of space made up of rooms. My flat a kind of meta-room,
other flats simply the same concept, multiplied over and over. Quite
repetitious, rather boring in fact, but it meant that a large area around me
could be quickly understood and I could move on to understanding something else.
What else was there? Objects seemed to be differentiated by some other
attribute, ...colour. Another fundamental attribute, distinct from the
fundamental numbers and dimension, a thing in itself.
Blue and black and green, there seemed to be some colours missing, the
brightness and warmth of yellow and red. Perhaps because I couldn't quite
remember them. What did they look like again?
Having discovered movement I moved from room to room. There seemed to be a
clue in the small red light on the shower switch in the bathroom, but it was
tiny. There must be a way to get more than that. Eventually I remembered
something about the lights, yes; there were lights that provided the brightness
and the yellow.
It seemed strange that simply remembering this did not bring it about. I had
conceived it, "let there be light", yet there was no light. Perhaps
there was something else I had forgotten. Maybe I had to go find a light
somewhere, to look at it and remember exactly what it was. Ah, a switch. It
needed to be switched on.
I switched. There was a baffling delay, but eventually it flickered on. It
was an energy saving bulb so the response wasn't immediate and the light not at
full intensity at first. It seemed odd that my environment was not
immediately responsive to my thoughts, it seemed that I had come from a place
where the conception of something was synchronous with it’s formal occurrence,
where there was no difference between intent and action, but now where was I?
The light revealed an astonishing amount of detail. The first thing that
struck me was my bookshelf. I realised what these things were. A condensation of
various peoples thoughts and ideas, some of which I had read with understanding
and empathy. But it was too much to take in. Not simply reducible to a repeating
idea, not like rooms of various shapes and sizes multiplied, not simply
I knew that my life and who I thought I was had been shattered by my
experience, yet the amount of detail that had been put into the illusion of
reality was staggering. If I picked up any of these books they would be packed
full of words, no blank ones like you might find in a film set. No wonder
people take themselves so seriously.
The remainder of my trip was spent going through cycles of re-orientation.
Over all I felt that I had come into being, into existence, at that point in time,
like in a ‘big-bang’ sort of way, it was the true moment of my creation.
I couldn’t quite understand why I had not been brought into being at the
beginning of time, why I had history, memories. But then, I had come into being
from outside of time so I guess it did not matter at what point I entered it.
The real significance of the experience seemed to be in its massive
intensity. That’s why it felt like a coming into being. It was a rebirth.
Collapse and annihilation had preceded it. I felt an intense sense of relief at
coming into existence as myself and not as someone else, and I was so happy to