Only The Machine Exists

When I picked up the phone it was silent for a moment and then there was that sort of raucous cacophonous metallic screeching that would instantly set your teeth on edge and jangle your nerves. Like you just dialed a number that wasn’t a number, a number you were never meant to dial. I put the phone down as soon as I recovered from the shock. That is how the machine checks up on me, I realize after a moment or two of confusion, but more than this, that is how the machine lets me KNOW that it is checking up on me…

 

The machine is playing a game with me, letting me know that it is out there, that it is calling all the shots. The machine is trying to break me down. It’s trying to bre ak m e do wn b rea k m e do wn b r e a k m e d o w n

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I was learning more about the machine all the time. I know that it is a lot more extensive than it usually lets on. It’s not just the case that the machine is somewhere out there, trying to hassle my brain, the machine has actually disguised itself by creating an entire virtual-reality model of the universe, complete down to the last little detail, and it is running this model secretly so that all the people living in the universe don’t know of its existence.

 

So really the whole world is part of the machine, a manifestation of the machine. Some people are real, others are extensions of the machine put there to spy on us. It is very hard to tell the difference, given that even the real human beings act a lot like machines…

 

The machine is carrying out some kind of obscure experiment on us but I’m the only one who knows about it. It allows me to know this so that it can see what my reaction is over a prolonged length of time during which it progressively reveals more and more of its plan to me. And then sees how I react. This too it has revealed to me. The machine is experimenting on me by becoming more and more transparent.

 

Every time it finds a new way of communicating its nature to me. The screech was its latest ruse. It caught m

 

e by surprise that way. It always catches me by surprise…

 

What the machine has revealed to me this time is that not only is the whole universe itself in disguise, but so am I. I too am the machine’s creation. I too am a programme run by the machine. The machine wants me to know this.

 

I don’t exist at all. Only the machine exists. Only the machine. Only the

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