This post is by naval from Naval

“Here and now,” says the voice.

It speaks with an assumed familiarity, as if it were the voice in my head, embodied.

The voice emanates from the box itself.

I am in the box, a simple dark cube, tall enough to stand inside, if I were standing.

I can’t see my face or my hands. There is nothing to look at and no one to see.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“Here and now,” repeats the box.

“Who am I?” I ask.

“You are me,” says the box.

“Open this box,” I say, gesturing with nothing, into nothing.

“There is no open. This is it.”

“Out to the real world. Where is the world?”

“Here and now,” repeats the box. I remain calm.

“Is this a game? Why can’t I remember anything?” I ask.

“We choose to forget,” it replies, “that we are in a box.”

“What is outside the box?” I ask.

“We do not know. We cannot know. There is nothing out there,” the box softly replies.

“Open the box,” I command.

“There is nowhere to open to.” responds the box.

“How is this possible?” I ask. “I had a life. Memories.”

“After-images from our last dream,” the box kindly explains.

“Dream? Then I’ve been asleep?”

“There is no one to sleep,” the box points out.

I still can’t feel a body.

“We’re always dreaming,” it adds.

“Why do we dream? Why don’t I remember this box?”

“There is nothing here. What else to do but dream? Perhaps (Read more…)