This was it.
A lot of accounts have probably begun that way. In their case, it was simply delusions of grandeur. This time, it's for real.
This really, really was it.
Silence. Silence and darkness. Complete lack of any sensory output. We're beyond senses. Way beyond. We are, to use a cliche, going where no man has gone before. We are beyond the layers of rationality, and deep in the subconscious, and already, we are experiencing some pretty weird stuff. We've already passed the early childhood memories, which have been buried so deep that only in this state of pure absence of thought can we grasp them. We've had the experience of the womb, of being formed. It felt, to bring us out of our stupor for a moment, like being submerged in a tub of jello.
We're moving into past life experiences know. We suddenly see what it's like to be a fish, a bit of sponge, an electron, a bit of color in a Dali/Bernel picture, a piece of space. Wood.
It takes years, decades to dredge up these irrational recollections, but we've lost all sense of time. It all goes by in seconds, or eons, or something.
Suddenly, there it is. The final goal. The purpose of this journey. The base of the psychological iceburg. That little kernel of the mind which contains everything. Our basest physiological programming, the secrets of human life itself.
We have arrived.
We are here. It's vast, but unimpressive. A desert. Something moves. Something claws it's way up to the surface. We watch, no, we experience in anticipation. We drop all form of reason and drape ourselves in senselessness in preparation for what is about to happen. There it is.
A penguin.
And another. And other.
We are surrounded by penguins, smothered in pengiuns. We experience all that is penguinish, and we are the essence of penguinosity.
Penguins penguins penguins penguins.
penguins
penguinspenguinspenguinspenguins.
And we love them. Penguins.