I felt an urge to do this again after reading an incredibly melancholy article about the flow of time as it relates to entanglement. This prompted so many ideas in my head, and conflicting ones at that, I felt that I needed a better understanding of what exactly entanglement is and why black holes behave the way they do. I read that particles popping into existence near the edge of a black hole are sometimes split into an entangled pair, with one of the partners breaking free and one falling back in. For the one outside the hole to keep from falling back in, it must become entangled with other particles outside the black hole. I wanted to know more about entanglement in the sense that one thing can only be entangled with only one other thing at any given time. Think of it like a pair of opposites, light is only opposite to dark, it’s not an opposite to anything else without changing what it is. And when it changes what it is, its entangled half changes in the opposite way? It’s been difficult for me to grasp.

Here are my notes from last night as I wrote them, large, urgent and with difficulty. Nothing was written during the first inhalation as complete ego death was achieved and I was no longer in control of my body.

[I feel as though I am…] “Part of another reality that spirals away from every given moment. They meet in the corners of the room where it all comes together. The forcing of this moment brought it back to reality. These moments spiral away based on everything going on around us. The music effects it. These things are also a part of the things around us. Even the music made it feel a certain way. This is where the thoughts of splitting come from. The spirals that roll away from us. I expected to come [back] into a different reality while I was on the trip. I felt like the dream of someone who had been in an accident. It felt that I was a part of a whole bigger than me. A being fragmented into many, infinite pieces. The feeling of loss, wanting to cry, being overwhelmed. Being one with all objects surrounding me, but I couldn’t do anything to effect them. I can tell [at this moment] that the music is the way I have observed it to be before this trip, but the warping feeling is so bizarre. Wrapping slices around in spirals emanating from a center. The first inhalation was certainly an ego death. It takes a while to bring back my memories from this reality. I felt so urgently that I was supposed to be in another place. I was losing another lifetime of things by coming back. Like maybe I am asleep in another reality and this one is what I’m dreaming about. Maybe I’m entangled to something else the way sleep and awake are entangled. It feels like everything exists in the swirl of my pen lid. Oh my god. Every corner of the lid of the cap felt significant to everything else in the room. Lines of everything extending into me from all over. We’re all just particles falling through black holes at all times. These are the lines. I felt not existing. My mind felt like a bag being turned inside out over and over, but only in one direction. I felt like the more ways I learned how to describe something in this reality, the more ways it can be expressed by the people living in this reality. Do our actions just unravel the specific reality we land in? We choose these. Every one. I felt like there were songs written just for me in this reality. One of them asking me not to go away. How much of this is real and how much imagination? How similar to a dream in that aspect. Like a black hole is some larger iteration of DNA copying itself, this life is some iteration of someone else’s dream. Not quite the same but it is… similar. It feels like everyone in my life somehow exists in my head. They somehow exist because of me. Why. I can’t go back, I can’t turn the bag “Right-side” out.