Quantum Thread

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet, there is noise here. In a frequency so high, it’s silent. An almost deafening silence, one of anguish and affliction. The darkness is all-consuming, though luminous as stars fill the vastness of the open skies. I suppose there is peace in knowing that this is where it all ends. Time works differently here, still, I can tell that mine is running out — unless I find a way out of this predicament. A rather ambitious presumption, as the pressure burrows through my eardrums, filling my head with a smothering lightness, the weight of a bomb. I’m just one tick away from exploding. In the distance, the nebulous dancing of giant fireballs reflects a dazzling flame in my eyes as my vision blurs. With my back flat and arms outstretched, it’s the most relaxed I’ve been in a while. As if floating on water, my concern drifts away in waves. This breath is final. A slow and deliberate inhale with the shallowest gasp will welcome my end. In anticipation, my lungs expand. Then contracts, clearing the fog on the exhale. The clouds on my judgment pass and I’m reminded — THIS ISN’T REAL!

In this realization, a uniform transformation begins, with my limbs extending to the endlessness of the sky. Space debris clears a path for me among the stars, as the void shrinks to a perfect circle. My attention shifts to the circle center and curiosity dictate my next move. Tap… Tap… Tap. I bash in the darkness. Like glass, crooked lines spread across the space, connecting stars as the cracks deepen. The ether breaks into pieces, creating an opening with a vicious appetite and vehement swiftness. It grabbed my ankles first, dragging me upwards — or perhaps, downwards. It’s hard to tell. Here, disorientation is direction. The dark peels away and I’m floating amid a spectrum of reflecting light. I follow my feet as they land smoothly on the glittering walkway, a path wide enough for one, yet infinite as far as the eyes can see. I’ve broken through and have landed on a familiar base. The paths are different, yet similar enough to affirm where I am. I’m back on the thread.

Imagine, a thread separating dreams from reality, love from hate, madness from genius, or your world and mine. A line so thin, so easily blurred, and sometimes invisible. Balance is necessary here. There is a delicacy in walking this line, a grace in measuring the placement of each step and holding it together till your time. To fall off prematurely will be at your disadvantage. Picture spiraling into a misguided reality, unassuming and unprepared. I’ve been there. In an existence so bleak, so unfulfilling, I’ve discovered that the only escape is through death. I’ve surpassed these experiences with a better understanding of the thread. Beyond my feet, past the translucent shimmer of the string, my potential fate lies below. In a maze, a sequence following no particular order, carrying on for miles and miles. The mazes represent worlds, or rather one world, with alternate versions. The reality you experience is all determined by your place on the thread. As I walk with a tickle on my soles, I’m focused on the signs of my next descent. The thread weakens from what was once a steady stride into a bouncy imbalance until the ultimate dissolution. That’s when I know it’s my time to disembark. The process is delirious. You must trust it or risk missing crucial information upon delivery. During transportation, visuals of a human life surround me as I expand and wane, dissolving into the thread, absorbing a new role while having my memories stripped. Until I’m reduced to a single spark on a thread, hanging in the balance between nothing and nowhere.

There is difficulty in starting all over again, from a tiny, helpless little thing with a powerful shriek and fading awareness. The first few games are fun, exciting even. There’s a thrill to the experience of human life, an expression of thoughts and emotions continuously until you are true to form. The imagination of existence beyond that reality is far-reaching and unbelievable. A role is best played this way, identifying entirely with the part and learning accordingly. A life done right means a breakthrough to a different point on the thread, growth, understanding, and a more eventful experience the next time. After many lives and lessons, it all ends the same. In a reversal, light expands, collecting the parts of me that settled into space dust and the thread welcomes my light feet again. Except for this time, I’ve accomplished something I hadn’t imagined was possible. Here I am, back on the thread, without the completion of my current cycle of human life.

I had no memory of this place until I just landed here. The information floods my circuits with familiar encounters, almost identical with slight variations. There is one question that plagues me still. If I didn’t die on the maze planet, did I escape it? This breakthrough is different, I know it. As if I’ve maneuvered through the maze and made it to the end without obstructions. Now here I am, back on the thread, minding my footsteps so as to not fall through yet again. The sensations melt from my body into the thread, bonding with the fibers and shooting through me once more before exploding into pixels. I’m no longer here, not in body at least. Energetically, I’m still around. I’m aware of it and I’m traveling through the thread. A single fiber, all-encompassing, free, and exhilarated. Suddenly, the dots connect and the clarity is obvious. What I perceived as a singular path revealed itself as a sophisticated web. One connecting infinite mazes and aligning a pointed path for an exit. I’m aware now that I’ve diverted many lives over. I’ve somehow maintained a connection with the thread, strong enough or learned enough to have made my way back here without a hurdle.

As I marvel at the intricate patterns that construct my awareness, befuddled by how little I perceived while reeling with an expansion of knowledge. The details of every experience sync with all the fibers that make up the thread. From every decision that went off the path and every lesson that followed. I downloaded the evolution of my journey to the thread. I’ve overloaded this circuit, craving a new outlet, so like tiny diamond droplets, I seep through the thread, evaporating upon separation. In a whirlwind, my particles collect to form a new creation. Indeed, I have evolved and graduated into the aspect of creator. No longer will I balance walk the thin line that determines my fate. I am the mechanism that creates fresh threads, weaving new experiences through my design. With all that I’ve gained over many lifetimes, it is with pleasure that I embark on this journey to build new worlds.