by Kenvinald Davidson
I started doing geometry because I thought it held clues to the metaphysical questions. I persued it as far as I could because I was obsessed. I quit only after I lost my mind and nearly died. I write about it now as a warning, and for closure.
I embarked upon my geometrical journey when I was twenty-one. I knew what everybody knows but is afraid to admit: that we are mathematical beings, matter organized into patterns that walk and feel and think. I ignored the impossible question of “what is matter?” and pursued the problem of “what is this organization?”
My many discoveries and creations are famous (or infamous) so I won’t repeat them here. Needless to say it was easy to become promiscuous and irresponsible in my personal life while my disciplined work-life made me such a reverred public figure. Despite my meandering, I formed a strong romantic relationship with the astronomer Marie Finettre.
But geometry is nearly synonymous with drug abuse, and the beauty of geometrical patterns cannot truly be appreciated without the heightened aesthetic sensibilities provided by heroin (any addict or geometer will understand). Marie and I would spend hours or even days under the multiple spells of patterns, symbols and opioids. I won’t lie: it was a lovely time, but that kind of beauty is not sustainable, as I would soon find out.
You will be surprised to know that my biggest discovery was never published. It coincided with my disappearance from the world of geometry, and the total disappearance of my beloved Marie.
In short, I discovered the Illuminati. It is not a group of people who coordinate to control global events. Instead it is a persistant pattern for a certain kind of counsciousness which can exist mainly in the theoretical plane of our minds, but is also frequently found in nature both on a large scale and on a small scale. It can process information and make decisions, and affect the physical world (the physical world being merely a plethora of patterns which are weaker and more ephemeral than the Illuminati).
I sought to discover its purpose and intentions, and to communicate with it.
The details are nightmarish, embarassing and mostly impossible to describe with language. I can only say that I did manage to make some form of contact with the pattern, but my sweet Marie had a stronger connection with it, and so her mind and body were absorbed into its being, and she was taken from me forever, and I am alone.
Of course, after the event my only goal was to reconnect with the pattern so I could join Marie within it. But instead of the old beauty and power I could only find nightmares, anguish and insanity. I was locked in my room with a chalkbaord, books on astronomy and math, paper and pencil, heroin, LSD, and amphetamines. I needed my Marie back. And I needed to communicate with the Illuminati.
But the emotional trauma made me unable to persue it. And the drugs made me mentally incapable of articulating formulae.
It should be noted here that the Illuminati is conscious, but not self-conscious. Neither are we. I discovered that there cannot ever be a pattern for true self-consciousness because in order for a pattern to refer to itself it must have a version of itself to refer to within itself. And the version-of-itself within itself would naturally have to have another full version of itself within itself. Itself within itself within itself ad infinitum. Which is impossible. You can only be conscious of other pieces of pattern. Sometimes you can be conscious of a reflection of a part of yourself and then you believe that you have found yourself.
I believe that when I became conscious of the Illuminati and the Illuminati became conscious of me, that I brought a small piece of self-reflective terror to that being. It took Marie because it was obsessed and curious regarding the thing that had terrified it. I obviously cannot blame it for its curious obsessions. But now I am speculating about details that I cannot understand.
Anyway, I have been blocked out and my mind has been stripped clean. I can barely stand to do my taxes, nevermind exploring deeper geometrical problems. Marie is gone, and now so am I.
I do not understand the Illuminati. And though for a while I understood something of symbols and patterns I do not know what is this matter which is somehow arranged into conscious patterns.
Instead I just sit back and watch the world go by, with all its patterns and selfless consciousness. And I dream of Marie and our time together, when we were in our prime.
I cannot say more about geometry. I know that my warning won’t deter those who are dedicated to it. It is too pawerful to avoid. Too beautiful to ignore. But to dangerous to play safely with.
And to tell the truth there is a part of me that envies those who are about to embark on a geometrical journey. Be brave, my friends. Or turn back now!
