What the others know

You don’t know how long it’s taken me to reach the point of saying something.

If I step out of myself, I can do it. There is always that little fear, though, that I might not be able to get back in.

You know that running gag/stereotype about people in tinfoil hats? I’m thinking, at this point, maybe the people in hats, got something. Not that they understood it, necessarily, or knew what to do with it, but still.

So far as I can tell, there’s no real intrinsic way to understand thought insertion. You sense what you sense; and…though there’s nothing that says you have to accept it, on a certain level there has to be some reason why you sense what you do — and not something else.

Recently I read an article on how the same potential security breach was discovered by four different researchers, none of whom were communicating with each other, within a matter of several months. The article attributed this to the fact that attention, globally, must have been focused around the same area of study, and same questions.

You already know what I’m going to say? I commend you, but wait for me to say it.

I’ve been of the opinion that there are intelligences communicating with us. Just because they aren’t in a form we can physically sense, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. But while we’re dealing with things on this…”plane”…let’s say, or more practically, in this, “world,” I wonder what else is going on behind the scenes. Things no one wants us to think about.

Well, except astrologers, and the like; and we all know how much faith goes to them.

But seriously speaking, reality doesn’t need your belief in order to exist. It will exist with or without your permission, and with or without your understanding.

I’m not someone who is really hard-core on religious texts. What I cognize doesn’t depend on that. I haven’t delved deeply into even psychoanalysis, which would be considered at this time within the “pop-psychology” category. Am I a paranormal researcher? I wouldn’t stretch it that far.

I’m just a person who understands things they shouldn’t. And even I have partial information. Been hanging around the wrong groups too long, maybe. I can’t tell if the information I’ve got is something that will benefit humanity or bring it crashing down on itself (oh wait, it’s already doing that, why should I be afraid of making it worse).

And no, I don’t know who it was that gifted Einstein with the law of Special Relativity, but that whole thing looks suspicious, to me.

What I can tell you is that we need to do something. Collectively. We need to do something.

My sense is that all of us feel disempowered. Because at core, we’re all the same being, looking at the same reality through different lenses. We think that if we alone do something, we’ll be crushed because no one else will follow through. And maybe we’re right.

But think of it this way: this is your reality. If you don’t fight to save it, how can you expect anyone else to do it for you? If it isn’t important enough to you to save it, what is?

The problem, I think — our biggest problem — is fear. If that weren’t an issue, this wouldn’t have come as far as it has. Fact is, no one alive knows for certain, what happens after people die. But if we did know, that might make the game not worth playing.

And it is a game. It has devolved into one, if it ever was anything else (which I highly doubt: the cycles of life and death do resemble one, to me).

If we’re playing a game, what are the stakes? Who are the players? And can we believe, really, truly, that the side we’re on is intrinsically better than any other option, just because it happens to be ours?

For the latter, I don’t think we can.

I think the point of the game is to realize this…

I think the point of the game is to realize this.


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Haru ("Codey") is a third-year Master's student in Library and Information Science, hoping to find a way to fuse their desire to make the world a better place and to finance their art.

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