I stand at the top of a mountain. It is lush with wild green and brown stalks and wild pretty things of different colors. It is cold. I am up high. I run and descend quickly, my feet not touching the ground. I am barely above the ground. Maybe an inch. Maybe two. It feels like flying, but I am not prone. I am upright. I feel myself pushing through the breeze. It sweeps my hair back away from my face with force. Yet what I feel on my face, my body, is a gentle current of air. It is washing over me. I feel free. I look down and I am naked. I hardly recognize my own body. It is that of me twenty years ago. I think I am beautiful. The contours of my body reveal every muscle, just where they aught to be. I look forward now. I am nearly at the bottom of the mountain. It gets warmer the nearer to sea level I get. As I descend I am pick up speed. Rushing towards something, yet I know not what. Once I get to the nadir, I see fields stretched out in front of me. They are lush also, but with soft green blades and tall brown wood with green things on them, many shades of green. I do not know where I am, and I do not care. I am at peace. As I fly over the land, skimming over tree tops, I am still gathering speed. Racing. It is breathtaking. I have not seen a single person or animal. Am I alone in the world?

I can see the ocean far in the distance. The deep blue. I believe it is The Atlantic, but really it could be any of them. What is The Atlantic? What is the not-Atlantics? Who cares? As I get nearer I see cliffs denoting the end of land. The beginning of sea. I wonder what will happen to get me from land to sea. Will I plummet as I pass the cliff’s edge? Will I glide down at a much more gradual angle. Whatever happens, I am not scared. I have been safe up to now. Somehow I know I will be safe then too. Still going faster, and faster, I am seconds away from the cliff. It is breathtakingly beautiful. Stunning jagged rock faces, merging together as one. Indeed I hold my breath. Afraid breathing will take from the moment. Maybe I will not hear something I am supposed to hear. See something I should see. I want to smell, taste, feel it all. My senses are alive. All five hyperaware of the inputs they receive. It feels like I am on some drug. It is a natural high, more powerful than any substance. The drugs were wrong. This is right. Wonderful magnetic nature. Pulling me on and on. I have never felt such wonder. At least not since I was a small child. Once over the ocean, I feel the water, yet it is not touching me. It is like an extraterrestrial force, yet on Earth. It is confusing, but not terrifying. As I race faster and faster, my vision protests. It cannot keep up with the speed. I wonder if I can control my velocity. I try, but come up empty. I think I can, but I am unsure how. All my attempts end in failure. I will try again soon. Once I come up with a new idea.

I can see what must be land ahead. I cannot be sure. It is merely a speck. I do not think it is a boat. Boats go on water. That is all I know. If there are no people, there should not be a boat. Or might there be? I am not sure of the rules. I have not gathered enough data to figure it out. I learn more and more each minute. The laws of physics, nature, life in this realm are still mostly a mystery. Waiting to be solved. The maybe-land gets closer. As it does I try to identify its makeup. I suddenly know it is land. Not from what I see. I just know. This instinctual foresight is fascinating to me. It is a wonderful gift. Slightly unnerving. Exhilarating. As I approach the land I begin slowing. I am still too fast to take in my surroundings. I know I will soon be able. The land looks sandy. That is what I can tell now. I keep slowing, my rate of deceleration increasing rapidly, until I am moving lazily. Not quite at the new place. The unknown location that I approach. And then I am there. I am moving at a steady rate. No acceleration. No deceleration. I am free to look around. Once again I am floating mere inches above the ground as I move. The wondrous awe-inspiring feelings of the other land rush back to me. It is perfection. I am perfection. This land is scorching. It does not hurt me. I can feel the temperature. I cannot feel the heat. I have seen a place like this before. Maybe on television. Maybe in a book. I do not remember what those things are. I just know they are things. Maybe were things. They do not matter. I know this place. This place matters. I glide above the sand. Rising. Falling. Rising. Falling. The sand looks like waves. Pale tan waves. Still waves. The only motion is wind. Wind blows sand. Sand mountains remain. It is all I can see. No ocean. No mountain. No field. No road. What is a road? I do not know. It is something. Was something. The sun is to my left. The sun is low in the sky. The sun casts shadows. The sand mountains catch radiant light. New shapes formed. Changing with the Earth’s movement. I know Earth spins. I know the sun does not spin around us. I do not know how I know. I know. I want to touch the sand. As I wish it becomes. I slow gradually until I stop. I descend that minute distance. My feet are on the hot sand. I know it should hurt. It does not hurt. This half knowledge of my me is odd. I know so many things. I do not know how anything. The sand feels beautiful under my soles. They sink a little each step. I step into the shadow. My feet are on cool sand. This feels nice. The not shadow sand did not hurt. This is better. I walk for a long time. I know it is long. I feels short. I should be hungry. I am not. I should be thirsty. I am not. I do not urinate. That is strange. I am human. I think. I do not care. I walk further. I see sand. Sand. Sand. I walk until my feet are bleeding. They are not bleeding. My mouth is parched. My mouth is moist. My body aches. I feel rejuvenated. I float upwards an inch or two. Again. Always and inch or two. I start to accelerate. Gradually at first. Picking up pace. I see tufts of brown blades. Hard, dry blades. Becoming more frequent blades. I am lifted higher. No wish of mine. Just higher. I accelerate faster. I am brisk. My pace remains as is. I float over what looks like many many structures made of stone. What is a collection of stone structures? There are no people there. I look up. I need to know is there anything around. I look back down. The city is gone. I did not pass it by. It is just gone. I don’t think it matters. I wonder what is next. I do not care. I wonder. I accelerate faster and faster. I cannot see again. It has shown me what it needed to. Who is it? What is it? It does not matter. It is it. It goes on and on. It feels like forever. What is forever? I don’t care. Months, years, centuries, eons go by. I see flashes of sea and land. Sea. Land. Sea. Land. I begin to slow. Eons are seconds. I got here quickly. Time is not time here. I am over sea once more.

I am approaching a white light. The brightness hurts my eyes. Too much white. I close my lids. The eyes still hurt. An object appears on my face. It rests on my nose. It rests on my ears. The eyes do not hurt anymore. I open the eyes slowly. There is dark in front of them. The object put the darkness there. I do not understand. The object is not nature. How can it exist? Here is nature. I am not sure what nature is. Nature is here. I look all around. All I see is white. Smooth. Jagged. Steep. Flat. Encompassing. Once more inches separate me from the white. I feel the cold on my soles. Biting. Numbing. Freezing. Frigid. My feet are perfect. I do not shiver. My naked body is serene. I should be bitterly frozen. I am not. I know not why? I know not why I know. My feet touch the surface. The motion of my corporeal being ceases. What is a corporeal being? Wait. It is my body. Why not say body? What does that mean? Is there a not corporal being? A being that is me? A being that is not me? I am confused. I do not care. I walk on the cold flat surface. I try to be composed. I slip and slide. I cannot go where I want. The ground owns me. I fall over and over. My body splayed on the ground. It should be agony. The cold on my me. I feel poised. I fall numerous times. I do not care. The edges of my mouth creep upwards. I feel more good. My mouth opens. I hear sounds. I vaguely remember them. They sound like ‘hahaha’. They are odd. I do not trust the sound. It keeps coming out of me. I feel positive. What is positive? I am about to move. I feel it. I do not know how. I just feel it. Immediately my body is scooped up. Into the air. I float for eternity. For a second. I fly. Slowly at first. The bright white still below. I move faster. Faster. Faster.

I see more sea. More sea. More sea. It is stormy. Big waves. My body rises and crests. In sync with the waves. I am moving too fast. Up and down. Up and down. Across is okay. Up and down is not okay. I think my body will convulse. Something will come out of my mouth. It will not be enjoyable. I do not want that. I feel calm. The up and down keeps going. Going. Going. I want it to stop. I feel the bad feel. I feel calm. The waves calm. I calm. I glide again. Supersonic gliding. Boom. More land coming. I know it is land. It is always land. I will be land. I am over land. I am not slowing. This is new. I zoom. Zoom. Zoom. Past blades. Past sand. Past the cold white. I gradually decelerate.

I can see something new. It looks like old. Like sand. Maybe sand not new. Maybe not. I slow more and more. Slow. Slow. Slow. I am above rock like sand. Sand rock. Sand-colored rock. This is strange. I look all around. There is sand-rock everywhere. Everywhere except ahead. I walk ahead. There is a cliff ahead. What is a cliff? I saw a cliff before. What is before? Walking. Walking. Near the edge. At the edge I see more sand-rock. It is down. Down. Down. Lots of sand-rock down there. Lots of sand-rock up here. Canyon. Why did that pop into my head? What is a canyon? It cannot be this. This is sand-rock. I float slowly. Slowly down to the bottom. I land on my feet. Hot again. No pain again. This is not the desert. The sand-rock is not the sand. I look up. And up. And up. Up is forever. I see the top. Top is far far away. I am near. Far. Near. Not the same. It wants me to know. I am far. I am near. I shoot up. Ascending faster than before. Much more rapidly. I am at the top in seconds. Nanoseconds. I think of sand-rock. Sea. I think of bright white. Sea. I think of sand. Sea. I think of mountain. Mountain is best. Mountain is comfortable. I know mountain. I do not know why. Thinking back. What is that? Thinking what has gone before? I do not understand. I understand now. What is before? I think again and again. Rock. White. Sand. Mountain. That is before. One before another. I am still confused. I know I knew once.

I will my body to turn around. To go back to mountain. I close my eyes. I concentrate. I suddenly am a missile. I travel at a preposterous rate. I cannot see anything. This time I do hurt. I feel all the wind. My cheeks pull back. My eyes push open. My penis and testicles ache. My limbs fly back. I am freezing. I do not like this. This is wrong. I stop with a jolt. I am here. I am above my mountain. Mine. Why is it mine? I know. I have it. When I was a me, I climbed this mountain. I had a name. I had clothes. I had boots. I had children. A wife. A career. A will to live. A zest for life. Is that gone? Do I care? I think I do care. I want to know. What happened? Why do I float and fly? Why am I not in clothes. In boots. Climbing. Not flying. I am placed on the top of the mountain. I can turn around and see 360°. I see everything. All of creation. No. This is not everything. I saw a lot more. On my flying journey. I am here now. I don’t care about the flying journey. I walk. Towards what I know not. I am curious. I am cautious. Something catches my eye. It is not-nature. Nature is green, blue, beige, bright white. This is not that. Not-nature peaks my interest. I walk over with trepidation. I am vigilant. Something is not right. I feel something inside. I do not understand this emotion. It is uncomfortable. I reach the sight. There is a person-person lying on the ground. He is broken. His head has a hole in it. There is pink-grey squishy stuff inside. There is a lot of red liquid. The liquid looks beautiful. I think people-people need it. When it comes out they get sick. Too much and they are no more. There is a word for no more. I look at no more person-person. I think I should feel sad. Maybe if I was a person-person I would.

I feel a shot between my eyes. I understand everything. I am a person. A human. Lush foliage with wild grass and flowers and trees, desert with dunes, ice is slippery, canyons are deep and the color of sand. I know it all. TV is for shows I watch. I read books. And on and on. I do feel sympathy for this person. This man. He is male. It is sad that he died. I wonder what happened him. Oh God. Please God no. The terrible realization hits me with a punch to the gut, and a squeezing of my chest. I cannot breath. I do not breath. I am not human. He. On the ground. He is human. He was human. I am him. He is me. I weep. Tears do not come. There is no water inside me. No feces to poop. No urine to pee. No tears to cry. No air in my lungs to exhale. No blood coursing through my veins. I am nothing. I have nothing. I look down at myself and see nothing. My body was an illusion. Lent to me until I was shown the reality of my situation. All I have just seen was either a dream, God’s work, or my soul processing my death. I want to pick real me up. And hold me. I know me is dead, but he is me. I am him. I want to mourn him. Mourn for me. For my life. My life is gone. Not just the breathing, pulsating me. The father. The husband. The colleague. The mountain-climber. The laugher. The crier. The eater. The drinker. The defecater. The urinator. The prankster. The son. The brother. The everything. I wonder will my body be found. Will my wife, children, parents, and siblings be tortured forever by the knowledge of not knowing. Please let me be found. Just give them that little piece of solace.

I lie down. My not body next to my body. I move closer. We would be touching if I was real. I whisper comforting words to him. I know he cannot hear them. I tell him I love him. I touch his chest. I feel nothing. No pulse. No respiration. I knew I wouldn’t. It still is unnerving. I kiss him on the cheek.

I stand up, with legs that are not there. I look straight up in the sky, with eyes that do not exist. I roar out my own name, with lungs that never breathed. I shoot skyward with a new sense of urgency. I have control of my not-body now. I am free of my body. The real one, and the traveling one. My mind is free to go where it goes. And so I reach and pull and push myself up and up. I want to go into the stars. To be up there. Safe. Away from mountains, deserts, glaciers, and canyons. I want to be away from dead bodies. Dead bodies that are me.

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