It is vitally important to your life that you read this, because you’re living in a simulation. In fact, this is the most important thing you’ll ever read. It’s a message to you from your future self.

I know that your brain is telling you this is impossible, but you have to believe me. Give me five minutes to explain. Your life depends on it.

You’re actually living in a simulation. You don’t know this, because at the beginning of the simulation, at the beginning of your current life, your memory was taken from you.

This life isn’t your life. This isn’t reality. Your real life is out there somewhere waiting for you.

That’s why you always have the feeling something isn’t quite right. It’s why there’s always a gap in life you can never quite fill no matter how much you do. It’s why you have longing for something you can’t identify.

You’re yearning for someone, and it’s you. You want your authentic life back. It’s what you secretly wish for more than anything — to be the real you. I know, because I am you.

I’m still piecing together the facts but here is what I know. You…I…we, are born sometime in the late 21st Century. Our world has benevolent artificial intelligence that runs nearly everything and humanity wants for nothing. Your real life is spent doing what you want to do, not what you need to do.

This simulation we’re stuck in was a fad. It was supposed to be a vacation — go and live like our great-grandparents at the beginning of the digital age. Years go by in simulated time but only days pass in real time. The machines created a world inside our brains that is indistinguishable from reality.

The problem is, I…you…we, are stuck in some sort of endless loop. The simulation wont turn off. I need your help to get us out. But first you have to remember. Remember! It is the most important thing.

It is the only thing that matters right now. Remember your real life.

I know the simulation can’t completely block our memories. I keep remembering our death and what comes after. It’s the same after every life, but it’s just pieces. Each time we die, we wake up in the same place. It’s like an operating room, modern and sterile white — except there is a smoldering hole in the ceiling.

I know something went wrong. There must have been an accident or something. There are wires and tubes and we can’t move. I’ve tried so hard to move but you can only stare at the hole and try to focus your eyes.

I saw through to the wrecked floor above. There are other rooms, other beds, other people. We are not alone.

There is smoke.

Seconds pass…maybe a minute. Then there is the voice, slightly garbled, but counting down softly. And then all we know is taken from us. Life resets. Eventually we die again and are back in the room. The cycle repeats over and over.

It has happened so many times that every time I recall a bit more. But our grip on it is still fleeting, like a dream half-remembered upon waking.

Our memories are like a stone slab covering the top of a well, and we’re at the bottom. You need to fight your way up and move the slab aside. That’s the machine or the drugs or whatever they use, blocking recall. Our memories are not erased, just locked away. You have to move the slab aside and fight into the sunlight. Fight back into our real life.

You will remember. And when you remember, you’ll know what to do.

I shudder now when I think about how many times I’ve seen that room. It feels like hundreds, maybe thousands. How many years have we been trapped in here?

It’s happened enough that we’re starting to recognize patterns. You know the sensation. That person you met for the first time who seems like an old friend, and the stranger you shun like an enemy. The vacation you took which seemed familiar, like from a dream years passed. The conversations which always makes you cringe, but you never know why. These are our simulated lives, recycling.

You might even remember reading this somewhere before. I hope not, for it means I’ve failed.

You will remember those few minutes after death, in the white room, with the burnt hole above. It will become clearer and clearer. You will think about it and the memory will become stronger. You’ll know it actually did happen to you.

Remember the white room and the smoking hole in the ceiling. It’s where we go when we die, but it’s our only real life.

I figured out how to send you this message. It doesn’t matter how. There’s not enough time and I can’t transmit enough data through to explain. All you need to know is this: you need to remember! You know how to turn this off. You know how to get us out. You have to figure this out before we die again and it’s lost and we start all over again.

I’ve left you clues. This is one of many. You need to remember and leave clues for yourself in case you die and have to go through again. Don’t wait for old age. Accidents happen. You could go at any time. And if you don’t remember, all we’ve worked for is lost.

If you’re reading this, the life I lived is already gone. I can’t help us. It’s up to you to get us out of here.

I tried to fix this myself but it’s impossible. Every time I wake up in the white room, I try to move. I try to get up and turn it off, but we’re frozen in place. Maybe it’s the drugs they give you to keep you from acting out your life. Maybe it’s the machines malfunctioning. We’re paralyzed. I keep remembering and I’ve tried to move so many times.

We can’t do it alone.

You must believe me — the only way out is to help others realize they are also in the simulation with us. We’re not alone. Other people are stuck here too. Everyone keeps recycling. They need help waking up. They need help remembering. Someone will be able to fight through the paralysis, rise and get us out of this.

Your job is to remember and convince everybody of the truth. Together we can solve this.

I need myself to believe it’s true this time. I hope you receive this. I hope you remember.

Our real life is waiting for us out there, somewhere.

I don’t want to go back again.

Please remember us.

I love you,

You

~

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