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Thank you. The Silent Directive Episode 1 The
Speaker 160.23 GHz Before I begin this new journey,
I must ask you to go back and listen to my first
eight tapes. They tell the story of my being,
my beginning. The story in this broadcast explains
those events, but if you'd like to experience
them firsthand, you still can. Alright, if you're
still listening, you either already listened
to the tapes or you don't care. Either way, fine
by me. What could be a more fitting first story
than my own? I was never alive. Not how you are,
at least. The day I was born, I was born dead.
A familiar tragedy. Sometimes avoidable, sometimes
not. My death was avoidable. But it seems my
mother didn't care for me enough to put the cigarette
down. Sure enough, I died. Now, I don't know
how souls work. I don't pretend to know the wisdom
of the universe. All I know is I was so ready
to be born, my soul didn't retreat to try again
or stay in whatever before there is. I was so
attached to my body, I possessed it. I possessed
my own soul. As you can imagine, I grew up different.
I still aged normally. My body was still a body.
But my entire life, my soul was tied to that
body very, very loosely. I didn't know what I
was doing. Emergent souls rarely do. I didn't
even know anything was different until I learned
how other people slept. See, I never did. My
body fell asleep, of course, but unlike you,
I didn't wake up the next morning with no memory
of the long hours of the night. Instead, as my
body fell asleep, I woke up. I felt myself float
upward and out of my body. There it was, sleeping
in bed, yet I was in the air, free to roam. I
thought it was the same for everyone. I'd wager
it's just as difficult for you to imagine me
roaming around my house as it is for me to imagine
hours of sleep passing you by in a mere instant.
I would float around my house, memorizing every
divot in the drywall, counting every hair of
the carpets, tracing every line in the wooden
floor. Every morning when the sun would rise
and my alarm would sound, I was pulled back into
my body and I woke up feeling rested as usual.
I had never grasped the concept of boredom before.
I was never bored during the night. I only began
to feel bored when, during the day, I found myself
with hours to spare, yet I was stuck to my body.
I tried to fulfill my nightly routine, count
a new carpet, study a new wall. But my body couldn't
keep up. I got exhausted too fast, and my brain
could hardly focus. I found myself more and more
eager to sleep. One day, as the sun came up,
I felt that familiar pull back to my body, and
for whatever reason, I decided to fight it. I
didn't actually care, I was just curious. Could
I? It turns out I could. I resisted the pull
until it subsided. My body stayed asleep through
my alarm and well into the day. I remember a
feeling of excitement. That was a new emotion
for me. Through my life, it had all been dull,
going through the motions, doing what I was told
and expected. But now I was free. I could wander,
explore, and no one would give me off looks or
change their actions behind my back. I was finally
free. I could roam wherever I wanted, see whatever
I wanted. My mother found me in my bed a few
hours later. She tried to wake me, but there
was nothing to wake. I was behind her, watching
it all unfold. I didn't understand the sadness
she felt. Wasn't she aware I was free? Why was
she so disturbed and upset by my still body when
I was finally untethered? As the EMTs rushed
to my bed and tried to help me, I watched with
curiosity. What a fascinating event to see, as
an observer, not a participant. I didn't change
the outcome by watching. As I was watching, ready
to leave and wander the world, I felt a pull.
This one was different. It wasn't toward my body,
like usual. This was a pull away. Not in any
direction, yet I felt it pulling me away from
here, from this place. I was suddenly struck
with a realization. This pole was final. It was
indefinite, and it was irrefutable. I didn't
want to go. I wanted to stay and explore this
vast world. I wasn't ready for the peace the
pole promised. So I reached my body and felt
myself slip back inside. I woke up suddenly,
shocking the EMTs and my mother. Everyone was
confused, but I was not. I had a plan. I knew
what I wanted. It was after that I began looking
into the paranormal. If this was true for me,
it must be true for others, right? Based on my
own experiences, I was easily able to differentiate
what was truth from what was lies. And that is
where my story started. I went on a trip around
the world. I knew I had to become something different.
If I merely died or slept, my soul would eventually
succumb to that pull, as all souls do. I devised
a plan. If I became some sort of paradox, some
enigma as I called it, I would be able to roam
forever. You were there for those events. You
listened as I enacted my plan. Unlike a haunt
or even an anomaly, I'm not a singular being
anymore. I was able to fracture and twist my
soul into something else. A frequency. Frequencies
are everywhere. They will never cease to exist.
They will never be locked out of somewhere. More
than air, more than gravity. They are untouched
by the world. No sealed doors nor black holes
can stop them. That is what I am now. My body
is laying somewhere dead on a beach in Thailand,
but I am everywhere. I wish I could explain it
to you. The feeling is unlike anything we were
ever meant to experience. Imagine submerging
yourself in a large pool, and as you do, you
can see what every drop of water sees. You can
hear what every drop hears. It's amazing. I am
the static in your headphones, the patterns under
your eyes, the noise in your photos. I am the
observer of the universe. It took me nearly a
year to collect myself again, learn how to organize
my being enough to broadcast a message. I hope
you enjoy them. I do not regret leaving the world
behind. I never felt human. My... Only regret
is having to leave Philibert. He was a good friend.
I hope he finds his final peace well. I'm glad
he was there through my journey. That is something
I learned as of late. As much as I wanted to
be an invisible observer, there is an emptiness
behind it. What is there to observing if you
cannot share it? Which brings me back to you.
I am so glad you choose to listen to my stories.
I have so many. I've seen so much. And I cannot
wait to share these unseen, untold stories with
you all. As long as there is someone to hear,
I will continue to share.