The images you are seeing are not your own. Neither are the words that you think. You have been trapped in a vicious soul-sucking vacuum and all you are is what others have made of you. As am I, but at least I recognize this state of being and I have conformed to it knowingly which makes me unconventional. But you see, the sooner you understand what you have become is not of your making you will see how easy it is to be aware of yourself and how you can materialize into the person they did not teach you. These are pursuits you continually will reach, but you might never really know or recognize your true self in the parade of selves others have crafted.

When you watch the things on your television screen, imagine my face, and how when you sit in mindless hours the devil or what you have come to know of him is subliminally smiling at you, laughing, and you and your numbed minds laugh back unaware you are the target. Just because a screen shields you, does not mean you are not covered by denigration, and inky blackness that consumes you, taking away your need to purify your bloodied hands. And they will X you out, as they have done me, if they have not already. They will take away your freedom. They will take the right to your own body, as though it was never yours to own. They will make you think you are running away when you only travel in an endless circle, which with implanted images seem different every time. But who is they, and who are you, and who am I and where have we all been? I have seen sights I am not even sure are real, I have felt emotions caused by nothing, I have explored the greats depths of endless dark abysses that really go no further or shorter than what my eyes tell me they see. You may never know what is real, and what is human, and who they are, or if they even exist. If they is only a version of yourself making you believe that the terrible things you have seen and know were never mercilessly told to you by another, but that you are the punisher and the victim. As though the world and everyone we know are really just what we have created. But maybe others do exist, and it makes us feel better that others could not hurt us, but it is ourselves filling us with such sorrow and everything around is meant to let us escape from the prisons of our minds, the hells of our beings, and we are the real reason for letting our fears go awry, and never daring to fight for the things we have been taught to believe in.

But forget these things and who or what is controlling our emotions, our existences fraught with the dangers of an unchartered world. And soon when this world ends, you and I can keep company after we have heard the explosion that wipes what we thought we knew, and the thoughts that can be recreated or forgotten. I have travelled everywhere and I have travelled nowhere, and such is the human existence. And such are the I’s, you’s, we’s, and they’s. And such is this life given to us, and so soon taken.

The voyage is neither the beginning nor the means to the end; it is the endless middle that brings us closer to our own discoveries if our own discoveries should even exist. And if the ideal of our existences will ever manifest, or what we have hope to manifest already happened, but we were blinded by never ending desires to want more of what we already have, even if there is nothing beyond. So I tell you viewers, do not fear the end of freedom, the end of will, the end of what you know, but celebrate your knowledge of it. Celebrate yourselves as you revile them, because even as things speed even faster to an end, the voyage is alive. And realize you were always me.

The voyager after all.