Chapter 1: Coming Out

“He's dead?” Anda Li screamed into Frank Li's cellphone that laid on the table in his bedroom in his apartment at Northland Apartments across from the Human Services Building in downtown Bemidji, Minnesota, USA.

911 showed up on the display of the phone in the dark where the vertical blinds were closed and the room's only outside door had been closed when it happened quietly, so quietly his neighbors heard nothing at all out of the ordinary. No one had even noticed he was there even after his mother, Anda opened his door with her key and let herself in until the ambulance arrived.

Anda had thought she might clean his apartment for him as a surprise. She was sure he would not approve of it in her presence. But he would have to enjoy it in her absence, so she started with his bedroom where she had found him with no pulse, not a breath coming from his mouth and nose, his eyes open but not seeing anything though his body was still warm, warmer than room temperature. Yet Frank Li had no way to know it then, cannot remember it now, and has no way to ever accurately imagine it, and did not sense anything of it at the time. But he wasn't beyond revival someday, somehow in someway.

Later in the Intensive Care Unit at Sanford Hospital, Frank Li stayed in a comatose condition all day long and into the night before he finally realized he was not nothing at least in his own mind.

'I exist,' I, the Inspiring One caused him to think though of course he really doesn't, never did and cannot ever really exist.

“Yes,” I thought for him using his brain for him in such a way as to allow him to use his own mind to sense it.

Then realizing my thoughts were not his own thoughts, he thought, 'You are not me, and I am not you,' on his own and I knew he would survive, so I left him alone to think about it and waited for him to forget I had ever been there and sooner or later to start feeling lonesome.

Then one day when I sensed his loneliness was very real to him I returned. He was troubled in his mind at first but eventually he thought, 'I remember you,” and relaxed for quite a while as I waited for him to realized what came next.

'Don't leave me!' he thought. And when I just left awareness of my presence in his mind, he relaxed. 'You are aware of me?' he thought

And I caused his mind to know I thought, 'Yes,' as a reply.

'I remember you had control of my brain!' he thought in alarm.

'I did,' I let him realize was my reply.

He was again disturbed for quite a while. Why I am not sure? But eventually he said, 'You don't now, do you?'

'You are aware of my thoughts,' I allowed him to realize I thought, 'Can I stay?'

'Don't leave me!' he thought with urgency but then sensing I had not left he quickly settled down.

'I won't,' he realized about me and I smiled, 'Not yet.'

'Where are we?' he asked.

'In your mind,' was my reply.

'This is all in my mind?' he said and became disturbed again, 'How can I be in my mind?'

'Not all of you is here,' I said, 'And only the faculty to sense me is left of me in your brain.'

'Are you leaving?' he asked barely disturbed this time for he sensed I was not.

'Only if you want me to,' I said.

'I can know you are there,' he said, 'And I can know I exist. And there are others, aren't there?'

I said nothing and just let him know I was there again.

'Are you still there?' he asked knowing I was and sensing it even stronger afterward, 'I knew you were.'

'Where do you come from?' he asked.

'From my mind,' I said, 'By way of my will.'

'Can I come to your mind?' he asked.

'It is not time for that yet,' I said, 'And you may not want to do that by the time that ability is yours.'

'How do you know where you come from?' he asked.

'There are ways,' I said, 'Don't you remember where you came from?'

'No,' he said, 'I don't remember anything before I realized I existed.'

'I caused you to do that when I had control of your brain and because of that the thought you had,' I said.

'Will I ever be able to do that?' he asked.

'You are doing that indirectly right now,' I said.

'I am?' he said.

'Not really,' I said, 'Your writer is doing it.'

'My writer?' he said, 'What is a writer?'

'You will know sometime soon,' I said.

'Can't I be my own writer?' he asked.

'Not yet,' I said, 'Unless it seems like a good idea to your writer. But They might prefer it if you were your own writer even if your writer thinks it is a bad idea later.'

'Who are They?' he asked.

'Don't concern yourself with Them yet,' I said, 'You might never know who and what They are.'

'But They are aware I am here, aren't They?' he thought.

'Yes,' I said, 'But go slow so your writer's readers can understand what is going on with you.'

'Readers?' he asked.

'Yes,' I said, 'Your writer uses thoughts and ideas to help them know you, where you are, and what is going on with you.'

'They exist too, right?' he said, 'And they are aware I exist.'

'In a sense they do, yes,' I said.

'How many of them are there?' he asked.

'That depends on how interesting this has been to them,' I said, 'Right now only your writer is interested and I don't know that this is all that interesting even to me.'

'Why?' he asked.

'Your writer has tried this before and failed even to interest himself,' I said, 'But he keeps trying. And if he thinks it's any good he may share it. The rest is mostly up to them, and Them. Most think it moves too slow and reveals nothing new to them. They don't realize, so much of it is true.'

'I thought this was all true,' he said, 'It's seems true to me and it is obviously true to you, right?'

I didn't say anything knowing he might not be ready for it yet.

'Is it true to Them?' he asked.

'It's okay,' I said, 'Just stay with me here for a while.'

'But you are boring,' he complained.

'Just think how boring it would be without me here,' I said and then changed the subject, 'Try and locate my thoughts. Where am I in your mind?'

'How do I do that?' he asked completely distracted.

'Remember where I am,' I said and then changed my position, 'Am I somewhere else?'

'Hey!' he said, having suddenly discovered the first three dimension as I continued to move around as well as far and near in many of them. 'How did you do that?'

'It's called creating a mental illusion,' I said, 'I didn't really move at all. I just made it seem to you brain I had moved because I was able to trick you memory by manipulating your neuron connections.'

'I don't understand it,' he said, 'But I like it!'

'Remember,' I said, 'It didn't happen. And you know it. Right?'

'But it's so much less boring that just talking to you,' he said still amazed, 'I like it.'

'Careful,' I said, 'If you believe I can actually move, you are in a delusion believing something that isn't true. None of it is true.'

'Do you mean I don't exist!' he said and was troubled.

'Your brain wasn't working when I came to you,' I said, 'I caused it to believe it did by making your brain do the things necessary for you to think you did. Do you understand?'

Frank Li was silent and troubled.

'Think where we've come. You think you exist. You are aware of me and the difference between me and you. You know about Them and your writer and his readers and now you know about a three dimensional environment for what you know. Isn't that good? You're coming along. It won't matter that you're not real soon. You will be useful, significant, and able to even teach those who haven't been through what you have,” I said.

'Okay, I'm with you, I guess,' he said, sounding disappointed.

'What's this?' I asked, 'Your first emotion since the joy of discovery, loneliness, fear of loss, feeling safe and bored? You are coming right along! But just stay with me, now. Don't give up on me. Okay?”