It all started when I died.
Indisputably, I knew that I was dead. There was no surrealism to take note of, the sensations surrounding my death. The feelings attached in some distant way, still resonated somewhere inside of me. Eternal echoes of knowledge. My bones were no longer corporeal, yet they stood stoically within the ether, the hallowed halls of wisdom destined to forever keep the chronicles of my existence. I had but to ask…
What was my favorite cereal when I was five?
…and the silent Guardian of my bones would approach the proper shelf of marrow, pull down the tome titled ‘Age Five.’ Pages turning crisply, fresh parchment resounding off compressed, mineralized walls of tissue, windows of crystallized membrane framed in petrified arteries. Upon finding the correct page, the Guardian points to the entry with a soft, gloved finger:
Well, there you have it!
Only, it happened expressly. The answers came instantaneously. The mausoleum of my life was not a hushed library after all, but data on the computer of some advanced alien race ran by nanotechnology already thriving within the chambers of my brain. They’d been there all along, awaiting the time when I was finally able to utilize them, unbound by the confines of life.
This is when it really started. The more questions my mind tumbled through, the more the answers appeared to come from out of place; disjointed by time no longer running linear, plucked from a chronological order no longer existing correctly. Yet, I realized then that I had. I had existed – correctly, it would seem – for far longer than I’d ever imagined possible.
The passage of time was null and void, the buoyancy rendered, robbed me of knowing precisely how long I spent floating through the seas of my infinite being. I was utterly oblivious to the unknown around me. This space was everything and nothing. Light and dark. I felt neither cold, nor hot, nor warm – only content. Peaceful. Desperately curious.
And I seemed to go on forever.