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A Choice Away, A Chalupa Apart

While gluttonously cramming juicy chunks of pineapple deep into my face this morning, I glimpsed into the future. Tears are salty and wouldn’t compliment the pineapple juice running down my chin, so I suppressed the urge to weep openly at my desk. My mere words are not adequate tools to describe the euphoria that now bathes my soul; articulating the purity of this feeling is like attempting to perform vascular surgery with an ice pick and a stapler, but nonetheless I must try. I play “Primitive Radio Gods – Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand” in Winamp, solo on repeat and finger-sprint to my blog.

It was like being inside a tubular tunnel; the floor, walls and ceiling are moving, swirling. It is black and white and all colors at once, constantly changing and evolving. Think of when they travel through the Stargate, it’s sort of like that. This energetic, dynamic perimeter represents the all the potential parameters in the multiverse. Five minutes from now I could get called into an impromptu meeting with my supervisor. In an hour my phone could ring and I could be informed that I have a long lost twin. FBI agents could come crashing through the window on ziplines and arrest me for that time I ate a pot brownie at Umass. At any moment I could spontaneously combust. The rear passenger’s side tire on my car could get a flat. The battery in my mouse could die. These are all possibilities of varying probability, but nothing on this Earth will change the solid, static future I see so clearly at the end of this tube of infinity. I am getting Taco Bell for lunch today.

I can only imagine the realization of this awesome and awful truth is akin to watching an atom bomb detonate under a compound microscope. I’ve unknowingly uncovered the ultimate axiom, that the future, simple putty, is what I make it. The cosmos eagerly bares herself to me and beckons me, dares me. All the secrets of existence, all the answers to all the questions I’ve ever asked and all the knowledge and wisdom that I never knew existed lay before me, prostrate and submissive, ready to join with me in eternal understanding and bliss. It’s like if Heaven itself did a Power Hour* using only shots of 5-hour Energy.

*Author's Note: Do not attempt. This will kill you.

At a near unconscious level, a single poor neuron out of a million in my brain barely grasps the enormity of the realization. The principle, the concept of this reality can be applied to any facet of my life. The tunnel that will irrevocably lead me to Taco Bell this afternoon can be manipulated, modified at any time to achieve virtually any desired outcome. It will be my choices, my actions that lead me to the certainty of Taco Bell in a matter of hours, mine and mine alone. This future outcome is no longer a possibility but a fact, ingrained firmly into the fabric of space-time as surely as events which have unfolded millennia ago. The only difference is that my will has shaped, is shaping and will shape the ‘infinity tube’ to reach the outcome which I desire. I grasp the infinity tube like a child grasps a tube made of fruit roll-up and effortlessly bend, twist, and even lick it according to the manner which I see fit. Taco Bell lunch is not a passing thought, not a possibility, or even a strong chance. Like the universe itself, it simply is.

The grandiosity of the truth is too much for my poor neuron. In this understanding, I have been granted Godhood. Desperately, my neuron tries to fire, tries to spread the knowledge of the purpose of my very existence across my mental pathways, to dissipate the weight of the boon in a futile effort to make it bearable. The surrounding neurons reject it; it is too much. I am not ready. My neuron shatters into nothingness under the weight.

Poor little guy can't handle it.

At first it is frantic and desperate, frustrated that it will cease to exist without having relayed the most valuable data in all of time. But in it’s last moments of existence it understands; it becomes enlightened. It opens its veiny axon terminal wide and accepts oblivion with a sense of peace that the rest of my brain may never fathom. It knows I am not ready, but it is. Its nucleus forms the shape of a smile just as it phases out of existence. With it passes the knowledge, the simple understanding that Godhood is at all times a choice away, a chalupa apart. As the last quark of the neuron’s nucleus fades away, understanding blossoms like a million golden roses blooming in a stop motion video. This is the definition of beauty.

I wasn’t ready for absolute divinity. But there will be other chances. In every millisecond of every day lies the element of choice, the ability to wrap the infinity tube around my finger. There will be other choices, other chances. There will be other chalupas. The understanding blinks completely out of existence. For now.

I love this song! I’m thinking Taco Bell for lunch. Mmm it’s gonna be gooooood!

Gaze into the eye of the infinite.

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