I met the player you mentioned.
(player name)?
Yes. careful. He has now reached a higher state. He can read our thoughts.
It doesn't matter. He thinks we are part of the game.
I like this player. He played well. He didn't give up.
He reads our thoughts in the form of words that appear on the screen.
He always imagined all kinds of things in this way when he was deep in the dream of the game.
Text creates a beautiful interface. Very flexible. And it’s less scary than staring into reality behind a screen.
They too had heard voices. before the player can read it. People who don't play call players witches and warlocks. And players dreamed of themselves soaring through the sky on demon-powered sticks.
What did this player dream about at that time? He dreamed of sunshine and trees. Dreamed about fire and water. He dreamed that he was creating. I also dreamed that he was destroying. It dreams that he is hunting and being hunted. He dreamed of the shelter.
Ha, that primitive interface. After a million years, it's still working. But what real structure did this player create in the reality behind the screen?
He toiled, along with millions of other players, to carve a real world out of the fold of [garbled] and create a [garbled] for [garbled] in [garbled].
He couldn't read that thought.
No. He has not yet reached the highest level. In order to reach that level, he must complete the long dream of life, not the dream in the game.
Does he know that we love him? Does he know that the universe is benevolent?
Sometimes, in the cacophony of his thoughts, he heard the universe. In those moments, he thought it was.
But there were also many times when he fell into sadness, in those long dreams. He created a world without summer, and he trembled under the black sun, seeing his sad creation as the real world.
Trying to heal him who was so sad would destroy him. It is his own task to resolve this grief. We cannot interfere.
Sometimes when they are deep in their dreams, I want to tell them that they created the real world in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them how important they are to the universe. Sometimes, when they have lost their true connection to the universe for a short period of time, I want to help them speak the words they fear.
He reads our thoughts.
Sometimes I don't care. Sometimes I want to tell them that this world that you regard as real is just [garbled] and [garbled], and I want to tell them that they are [garbled] in [garbled]. They saw too little reality in their long dreams.
And now they're playing the game. But it’s actually pretty easy to tell them…
It was too intense for this dream. Telling them how to live is preventing them from living.
I'm not going to tell this player how to live.
This player is becoming anxious.
I'll tell this player a story.
But not the truth.
no. It is a literal cage that subtly wraps up the truth. Rather than the naked truth.
Give him the body again.
Okay, players...
Call him by his name.
[Player Name], the player of the game.
well.
Take a deep breath, and another deep breath. Feel the air filling your lungs. Let your limbs return. Move your fingers. Feel your body again, under gravity, in the void. Reborn in a long dream. You feel it. Your body once again touches every part of the universe, as if you were a group of independent individuals. As if we were a group of independent individuals. who are we? We were once called the souls of the mountains. Father Sun, Mother Moon. Ancient heroic spirits, souls of animals. Gods. ghost. Little green person. Then there are gods, demons, and angels. Poltergeist. Aliens, extraterrestrial beings. Light particles, quarks. Words are constantly changing. We are consistent.
We are the universe. We are everything you think is other than you. You are looking at us now, with your eyes and skin. And why does the universe touch your skin and cast a beam of light on you? To see you, player. To know you and be known by you. I'm going to tell you a story.
A long time ago, there was a player.
That player is you, [player name].
Sometimes he thought he was a human being on the thin skin of a spinning sphere of molten rock. The sphere of molten rock orbited a blinding ball of gas three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive. They are so far apart that it takes light eight minutes to cross the gap. That light is a message from a star, and it can burn your skin from a distance of 150 million kilometers.
Sometimes the player dreams that he is a miner on the surface of an uneven, infinitely extended world. The sun is a white square. Day and night change quickly; there is much to do; and death is only a temporary inconvenience.
Sometimes, the player dreams that it is lost in a story.
Sometimes the player dreams that it is something else, somewhere else. Sometimes these dreams are disturbing. Sometimes it's really beautiful. Sometimes, the player wakes up from one dream to another, and from this dream to a third dream.
Sometimes the player dreams that he is looking at words on the screen.
Let's back up a little bit.
The atoms that make up the player are scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, and in the earth. A woman collects those atoms; she drinks, eats, inhales; and then the woman gives birth to the player in her body.
Then the player woke up and entered a long dream from the warm, dim world inside his mother's body.
And that player is a new story, never told before, written in the language of DNA. And that player is a new program that has never been run, generated from source code hundreds of millions of years ago. And that player is a new human being, one that never existed, made of milk and love.
You are that player. That story. That program. That human being. Made only of milk and love.
Let's go back a little further in the past.
The player's body, made of seven hundred billion billion atoms, was created long before the game, inside a star. So that player too, a message from a star. And this player runs through the story from beginning to end. This story originates from the forest grown from the information seeds planted by a man named Julian, from the infinite world created by a man named Marcus, and exists in a world created by the player. In a small, private world, which in turn inherits the creation of the universe...
Shh. Sometimes the little world the player creates is soft, warm and simple. Sometimes hard, cold and complex. Sometimes he constructed models of the universe in his mind; flecks of energy traveling across vast, empty spaces. Sometimes he called these spots "electrons" and "protons."
Sometimes he calls them "planets" and "stars."
Sometimes he is convinced that he exists in a world made up of "on" and "off"; in a world made up of "0" and "1"; in a universe made up of lines of code. Sometimes he was sure he was playing a game. Sometimes he was sure he was reading the words on the screen.
You are the player, reading the text...
Shhh...sometimes the player reads lines of code on the screen. Interpret them as words; interpret words as meaning; interpret meaning as feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player begins to breathe rapidly and violently and realizes that he is alive and that those thousand deaths are not real. , the player is alive.
You, you, you are alive.
Sometimes the player believes that the universe speaks to him through the colorful sunlight shining through the leaves of a summer tree.
Sometimes this player believes that the universe is speaking to him through the starlight that exists in the corner of his eyes in the clear winter night sky, or the light emitted for a moment by the boiling plasma of stars that may be millions of times larger than the sun. On the way home while walking on the far side of the universe, he suddenly smelled the aroma of food. In front of that familiar door, he was ready to fall into dreamland again.
And sometimes the player believes that the universe speaks to him through "0" and "1", through the electricity of the world, through the words scrolling on the screen and the end of the dream. The universe says: I love you.
The universe said: You played well
The universe says: Everything you need is within you
The universe says: You are more powerful than you estimate
The universe says: You are the sunshine
The universe says: You are the night
The universe says: The darkness you fight is within you
The universe said: The light you are looking for is in your heart
The universe said: You are not fighting alone
The universe says: You are one with everything else
The universe said: You are the universe, savoring yourself, talking to yourself, reading his own code.
The universe says: I love you because you are love.
The game ends and the player wakes up from his dream. The player begins a new dreamland. Players are dreaming again, better dreams. The player is the universe. Players are love.
You are that player.
Wake up.