Dinner with a Therapist in L.A.

I examined her face looking for a hint of skepticism, but she seemed sincere. She wanted to know what had happened, as incredible as it was…I was having trouble believing the situation I was in – it’s like I was a person who was awakened by a timeless algorithm locked inside my genetic code. I was a king, and my story had put me in the line of fire of the Los Angeles Public Schools. This is when I felt an energy awaken within me, and that’s when I met the lady she was asking me about, “She asked me a few questions to make sure I had not stumbled on the portal by accident. She said that I arrived to the portal because it was part of the plot line where I would show up, and she would be prepared to ask me some questions I did not quite expect. 

“What’d she ask you?” 

She told me a story about how she had traveled the world, and explored different timelines in different futures and pasts; she showed me a booth the controlled the portal and their locations, and she told me how the stories were managed.

“Managed?”

“We all have a timeline we’re on,” she showed me a screen. “It was organized on a map - the different stories in the matrix - and she showed me different stories of different characters on the map - of what their life had been, and what it would be - even though they did not know it.

“Did she show you your timeline?” 

“I asked her,” I told her. “And she said it was prohibited talking about the future because it would spoil the experience.” 

“The experience?”

“She told me we’re in a simulation - an ancestral one - then she told me the story of Adam and Eve, and how the world population had grown -- she told me it was Steve’s Job to build the Apple of knowledge. She told me all of these amazing literary coincidences I had never noticed.” 

“And?”

“And what?” 

“Do you believe her?”

I paused. Why did I feel I knew her better than I did? Was it just because I had someone to talk to that was interested? I couldn’t tell. “There is a structure to my experience that strongly suggest the simulation is so good, it’s hardly worth saying it -- it’s too meta, but yes - to answer your question. I began to experience a sequence of coincidences whose meaning can easily be deciphered from a literary perspective. I believe this is the way God communicates.” 

“What makes you think that?”

“Because -- I talk to God - and thoughts enter my mind, like an answer to what I asked. Does that happen to you?”  

“I never thought about it that way,” she said. 

“What I’m saying is that God is present now. He is always present everywhere. He is everything. We are just his characters. He’s putting on a play where we’re slowly becoming aware that we can create reality, if we just collaborate.” 

“How do you communicate with God, exactly?” 

“Triangulation,” I explain. “It’s like reading a book that you’re in - we haven’t been taught properly - the nature of reality - because there are people who just want to steal our tax money - can you believe that such a little obstacle stands in our way?”

“That’s not so little,” she says.

“It is,” I tell her. “Because once you realize that we create reality together, then none of the illusion works - we’re free. That’s God’s message - Earth is the Kingdom he has given us, but that doesn’t happen by itself,” I tell her. “We have to create it.” 

She just looked at me, waiting. “I’m talking too much,” I told her. “How about you tell me something about yourself now?” 

“I was in a bad relationship a long time,” she began. “But that’s what I get for being greedy,” she laughed. “There’s nothing nicer than security for a girl who pursued acting, and felt she really needed a backup plan.” 

“You look famous,” I told her. “Look what Hollywood did to Marilyn Monroe. She was a true artist, and they killed her. It makes me said, as a storyteller, what they did to her.” 

“I”m glad we finally met,” she said.  “Can you afford this place?”

“I’m spending twice as much as I’d spend on myself,” I told her.  

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, looking around the hotel we were in. “I bet lots of Hollywood stars came through here.” 

I just looked at her for a moment, not wanting to talk about Hollywood or stars or anything - all that was an illusion - what was real was my time with her - her energy was present, and was the first sensation I got in quite a bit of time that maybe I could be understood by someone. It’s like it had been so long since I met someone I could just talk to and feel connected with in a comfortable way. “Tell me what it was like to be a teacher,” she said. “Tell me a crazy story.” She had an anticipatory look on her face, like she wanted to hear a story. I remember what she had said - she would rather hear an exaggerated story than the exact truth so I started thinking about what story I was going to tell her, and how I was going to tell it. 

“Will you tell me what’s true at the end?” she asked. 

“Only at the end,” I said. “Not sooner.” 

“Okay,” she agreed. “After desert I question you to find what was real.” 

“You’re going to question me?”

She laughed, “Yeah.”