Research of the Unknown: Identity

Men have said that although there is but only one universe, this single entity has infinite profundity. Beneath what you imagine to be the final form of veracity lays an infinite amount of other worlds, each blind to another's existence and post in the cosmology.

Imagine a die with ten thousand sides, and imagine that each face on that die touches every reality on its fringes both simultaneously and ethereally. What occurs in one world has an indistinguishable and imperceptible effect in every other dimension. If you can see that in your mind, then your veil of misinformation has lifted only slightly.

Those are the only words to depict those other dimensions. Even if they mostly appear to be similar.

A Multiverse.

Nothing else can be said about the travels of a broken mind. As fantastic and as terrible as these dreams may appear to be, they are nonetheless true and nevertheless real.

If you die in what you imagine and perceive to be a dream, never again can you return to that world. Your avatar is forever gone, and so your mind and your spirit can never again travel there.

Although you may remember the most minute details of the scenery and the names of every person you ever met there, never again can that reality be accessed. This is the reason why so many "sane" men deny the truth of the worlds in dreams; they don't want to believe in their own failure. Man is a selfish and egotistical beast; that is why he is the most stunning of all creatures.

Akin to a universe composed of separate worlds as opposed to one of complete unity, the fragmented mind sees all. Let it be known that the acquiring of truth necessitates a broken psyche and a shattered will. Plainly said, true sight is not sanity; rather, it is madness.

But can one be fractured at points in time and yet still self-repair afterwards while remembering whatever it was one saw while broken? Yes, one can.

Slumber and dreams- the times when a body rests and the subconscious takes over- these moments create the cracks in the mind. The separate realities, like gas seeping into a permeable atmosphere, enter the sleeping body. They, in turn, create the dreams and the nightmares we visit every night; they, in turn, act as fleeting doors between planes.

What is humanity's position in relation to the endless infinity of dreams, nightmares, and the other worlds contained within? This is a question I cannot answer. Mankind, as a whole, can never be anything more than a collection of motes without a central structure or pattern or purpose. Individuals, on the other hand, often rise out of the mass, standing tall and proud, and the mire lying like death beneath them.

Yes, humanity is nothing in comparison to the infinity of existence, and yes, individuals are the saviors and the fountainheads of that undeserving jumble. Without singular individuals acting on their own accord, taking the knowledge gained from the senses or from what the ancients have told them, man would forever wink out of the universe.

Even in the face of things that can never be or, at least, should never be in that original reality, a person can either deny and survive or accept and shatter. His resilient fragility is man's oldest feature and the reason for his fragile beauty. When history is not documented, anything can be the truth while everything can be lies.

What one can ever know to be true is what one has seen and heard and smelt and felt and tasted for themselves; without proof and evidence any argument or secondhand story is plausible and possible. The analysis of cultures without some form of acknowledged history should only be scholastically valid up to a certain point.

When extrapolation and synthesis overextends from its evidentiary foundation, the entire thesis shakes; no matter the amount of radiant theories and how perfectly the ends become tied, if the threads being connected are frayed and rotten and fragmentary, there's no point in weaving the history when it can never say anything substantial.

On the other hand, when all postulated claims are given a concrete foothold in multiple eye-witness accounts, the thesis shakes in a different sense, causing tremors to reverberate throughout the entire discipline and, indeed, across sometimes arbitrary fences into separate fields.

Truth may cause madness at times while lies can keep sanity un-fractured. The key question remains: Is it always best to know things as they are or is it best to remain blinded by a veil?