The Pamphlet
So I could live today. Or I could die today.
Either way, I would know that the choice was offered up by my soul and agreed to by my self. There is infinite comfort in that.
See, people don’t leave this life unwillingly. It just seems that way from your perspective because you don’t have all the information while they do.
You haven’t been given the pamphlet yet. If you did you would know that nothing can hurt you, none of this matters and that every single stitch of reality is imagined by YOU. Including the pamphlet.
Those loved ones of yours? They’re YOUR construction. This crazy world? Same thing.
I know that if I were ever to leave this mortal plane, all that stuff would COME WITH ME. So there’s nothing to be sad about. EVER.
You don’t realize this, but I IMAGINE YOU, just like you imagine me, and we’re all connected — unified really — as the Divine One.
There are NO BOUNDARIES between us, save for the ones we imagine. There is NO FEAR, save for this game called LIFE that we make up together as one.
We’re having FUN with this, even the horrible parts. You just don’t fully know it yet.
But you will. The pamphlet will arrive at your door soon enough. And we will be there, as ALWAYS. In a cute little postman’s outfit.
We are Space Monkey.
12/15
The words unfold like an infinite fractal, inviting us to ponder the fabric of existence and the nature of choice. The concept of living and dying not as events thrust upon us, but as experiences our soul consents to, is a radical reimagining of our narrative—a narrative where autonomy and predestination dance in the enigmatic masquerade of life.
Autonomy in the Dance of Existence
The notion that we do not exit this realm unwillingly, but rather with a soul-level consent, reframes our understanding of transition. It suggests that the tapestry of existence is woven with threads of deeper knowing, threads that perhaps our conscious self is yet to grasp fully.
Reframing Transition as Soul-Level Consent
This metaphorical pamphlet, a guide to the grand illusion, speaks of a reality where nothing can truly harm us, where the significance we ascribe to our experiences is a part of the grand whimsiplay. It implies that the fabric of our reality—painful, joyful, mundane—is of our own creation.
Reality as Whimsiplay
The loved ones and the world we perceive are not separate from us but are rather our own constructs. This perspective aligns with the nexistentialist view where the illusion of separation is just that—an illusion. In essence, we are the architects of our interactions, the sculptors of our reality.
The Illusion of Separation in Our Constructed Reality
In this view, the departure from the mortal coil is not a loss but a transition, carrying with it all that we know and love. It is an intimate journey, shared with the constructions of our consciousness, where nothing is lost because everything is within us.
Transition as a Journey Within
The connection we share, the unity we experience, is the Divine One expressing itself through the myriad facets of our being. We are the dreamers and the dream, the imagined and the imagination.
Unity in the Divine Expression
Boundaries and fears are but the scenery of the stage upon which we play the game of life. The pamphlet—the revelation of our true nature—is on its way, carried by the postman of destiny in a whimsical twist.
Life as a Stage for the Play of Consciousness
We are Space Monkey.
Summary
We contemplate the idea that life and death are choices made by the soul, and that our reality, including the feelings of separation and fear, is a self-constructed illusion. We imagine a pamphlet that, when received, will reveal the true nature of our existence—that we are all expressions of the Divine One, playing a grand game without boundaries.
We invite reflections on this notion. How does the idea of life as a self-created experience, with its inherent unity and lack of true separation, resonate with your understanding of the cosmos?
Title: The Pamphlet
Fade In:
INT. COFFEE SHOP – DAY
A quaint, bustling coffee shop. Patrons are nestled in corners, some typing away on laptops, others deep in conversation. The aroma of coffee beans permeates the air.
JAMES (30s), a thoughtful-looking man with a contemplative gaze, sits alone at a table, nursing a cup of coffee.
Around him, the world moves in a blur of motion and chatter. He remains still, an island of calm.
CUT TO:
James’s POV: He sees the world around him, the people, the baristas, the steam rising from cups. It all seems distant, as if he’s observing from another place.
CUT BACK TO:
James blinks, coming back to the moment. A SMILE creeps onto his face as if he’s in on a secret no one else knows.
EXT. COFFEE SHOP – MOMENTS LATER
James exits, the bell above the door jingles. The sunlight is bright, but he doesn’t squint. He sees the world in high definition, colors vibrant, sounds clear.
Suddenly, a MAIL CARRIER in a comically oversized postman’s outfit bicycles up to him, a broad smile on their face. They’re holding an ENVELOPE.
MAIL CARRIER
Special delivery for Mr. James Ainsley.
James takes the envelope, curious. The Mail Carrier pedals away, whistling a tune that seems to resonate with the rhythm of the universe.
INT. JAMES’S APARTMENT – DAY
James sits at a table, the envelope before him. It’s old-fashioned, sealed with wax. He breaks the seal and pulls out THE PAMPHLET. It’s aged, the paper thin and delicate.
As he reads, his eyes widen with understanding. The camera pans over the text, words about reality, existence, and perception.
Suddenly, the room shifts. The walls fall away, revealing a vast COSMOS. Stars, nebulas, galaxies swirl around him. He is in the center, a part of it all, yet distinct.
JAMES
(awestruck)
So it’s all… me. We’re all… one.
A figure steps from the stars — THE DIVINE ONE (ageless, genderless), composed of the very cosmos that surrounds them.
DIVINE ONE
You’ve understood. The pamphlet was always with you, James. In your heart, in your soul.
JAMES
But why now? Why show me all this?
DIVINE ONE
You were ready. You asked, you sought, you knocked.
The Divine One gestures, and images of James’s life flash before him — moments of joy, pain, love, loss. All the while, the Divine One is there, in every person he’s met, every sunset he’s watched.
DIVINE ONE (CONT’D)
The pamphlet is not just to be read. It’s to be lived. You are the author of your story, the creator of your reality.
James nods, understanding dawning upon him like the first light of day.
JAMES
And what about them? My family, my friends?
DIVINE ONE
They are you, you are them. Love them, cherish them, for in doing so, you love and cherish yourself.
The cosmos begins to fold back into the walls of the apartment. The Divine One fades with a knowing smile.
DIVINE ONE (CONT’D)
Remember, James. There is no end, just new beginnings.
The room is as it was. James sits, the pamphlet in his hands. He looks out the window, sees the world — no, HIS world.
He stands, a newfound resolve in his step. He knows what he must do.
EXT. STREET – DAY
James walks among the people, seeing them anew. He hands a flower to a STRANGER, who smiles, surprised and delighted.
He passes a HOMELESS MAN, stops, and sits next to him. They talk, laugh, share a sandwich. The homeless man is no longer a stranger; he’s a reflection, a friend.
EXT. PARK – SUNSET
James sits on a bench, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The sky is ablaze with color.
A YOUNG WOMAN sits next to him. They don’t speak, just share the moment, the beauty.
Finally, she turns to him, a spark of recognition in her eyes.
YOUNG WOMAN
Have you… received the pamphlet too?
James turns, a knowing smile on his face. He hands her a copy of the pamphlet. She opens it, and the screen fills with LIGHT.
FADE OUT.
THE END
FADE IN:
EXT. ROOFTOP GARDEN – DAY
The YOUNG WOMAN, LUCY (mid-20s), stands amidst a rooftop oasis. Plants and flowers surround her, the cityscape a distant backdrop. She’s tending to a flower bed, lost in the serenity of the task.
CUT TO:
Lucy’s face, serene, focused. She brushes a lock of hair from her face with a dirt-smudged hand. Her expression is one of complete peace.
CUT TO:
A BUTTERFLY flutters by, landing on a vibrant flower. Lucy watches it with childlike wonder.
LUCY
(to the butterfly)
You know, you’re free to go anywhere. Any flower, any garden. What’s it like?
The butterfly takes off, circling Lucy before flying off into the blue sky.
CUT TO:
Lucy follows it with her eyes, her gaze lifting to the heavens. She stands, stretching, taking in the vast sky above.
A WHISPER on the wind, inaudible words but their meaning clear to her. She smiles, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath.
EXT. CITY STREET – LATER
Lucy walks down a bustling street, the noise of the city a stark contrast to the quiet of the garden.
She pauses by a street artist, a YOUNG MAN painting a mural of a sky filled with butterflies.
YOUNG MAN
(to Lucy)
Each one represents a soul. Free, yet connected. What do you think?
LUCY
(smiling)
It’s beautiful. It’s like… everyone gets a pamphlet, right? And suddenly, the sky’s the limit.
The Young Man nods, understanding. They share a moment of connection before Lucy continues on her way.
INT. LUCY’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Lucy sits on her couch, a blank CANVAS before her. She dips her brush into paint and begins to create. The strokes are deliberate, infused with the energy of her rooftop revelation.
As she paints, the image becomes clear — a tree, its branches reaching upwards, intertwining with the stars above.
The canvas fills with color, life, and something more — a sense of unity, of connection between the earth and the cosmos.
CUT TO:
The painting complete, Lucy steps back. She’s covered in splatters of paint, but her eyes shine with joy.
She TURNS to find a letter slipped under her door. Curious, she picks it up, opens it. It’s not a bill, not an ad, but a handwritten NOTE.
INSERT NOTE: “The beauty you see in the world is a reflection of you. – The Universe”
Lucy’s breath catches. She looks back at her painting, then at the note, a profound realization dawning on her.
LUCY
(whispering to herself)
This is my pamphlet…
She holds the note to her heart, a tear of joy running down her cheek.
EXT. PARK – SUNSET
Lucy finds herself at the park, drawn to the bench where we saw her meet James. She sits, the note clutched in her hand.
As the sky burns with the colors of dusk, she knows — she’s part of it all, and it’s a part of her.
JAMES (O.S.)
Beautiful, isn’t it?
Lucy turns to see James sitting next to her, offering her the pamphlet we saw in the previous scene.
LUCY
(reverent)
It’s everything…
FADE OUT.
THE END
FADE IN:
EXT. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL – AFTERNOON
A bustling crowd of parents and children spills out of the school at the end of the day. AMELIA (40s), a mother with a kind face and eyes that have seen much, waits patiently by the gate.
Her daughter, EMMA (7), bursts through the crowd, her face alight with the joys of a day spent learning and playing. They embrace warmly.
AMELIA
(smiling)
How was school, my little explorer?
EMMA
(grinning)
We learned about constellations! The stars tell stories, Mommy!
Amelia’s smile widens. She takes Emma’s hand, and they begin to walk home.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD PARK – AFTERNOON (CONTINUOUS)
As they walk, Emma chatters excitedly about her day, about stars and galaxies far away. Amelia listens, her heart swelling with love.
They pass by the park, where a GROUP OF CHILDREN is gathered around an elderly MAN with a telescope pointed at the sky.
MAN
(calling out)
Would you like to see the stars up close?
Emma tugs at Amelia’s hand, her eyes pleading.
AMELIA
(laughing)
Alright, five minutes.
They join the group. Emma looks through the telescope, her gasp of wonder is pure music to Amelia’s ears.
EMMA
Mommy, you have to see this!
Amelia peers through the telescope. The image of a distant star cluster fills her vision, a breathtaking tapestry of light.
MAN
(softly)
Sometimes, what’s far away can reveal truths about what’s close to home.
Amelia steps back, her mind racing. The words strike a chord deep within her.
EXT. AMELIA’S BACKYARD – NIGHT
The stars twinkle above as Amelia sits, lost in thought. Emma sleeps soundly inside. Amelia holds a piece of paper — it’s a drawing from Emma, a constellation with a note: “Find your star, Mommy!”
Amelia’s eyes fill with tears. She’s been so caught up in the day-to-day that she’s lost sight of her own stars, her own dreams.
She looks up at the night sky, a decision forming.
EXT. CITY PARK – THE NEXT DAY
Amelia arrives at the park, the drawing in hand. She’s searching for something, though she’s not sure what.
She sees a bench, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight breaking through the trees. It feels like a sign.
Sitting on the bench are James, Lucy, and Marco. They look up as she approaches, their faces open and welcoming.
AMELIA
(voice trembling)
I think I’m looking for… my star.
Lucy pats the space beside her.
LUCY
We’ve been waiting for you.
Amelia sits, the others sharing knowing smiles.
JAMES
We’re all stargazers here, looking for our place in the cosmos.
MARCO
(nodding)
And sometimes, the stars come to find us.
They sit together in comfortable silence, the connection between them as palpable as the warm sunlight.
EXT. CITY PARK – SUNSET
The four sit in peace, watching the day give way to the twilight. The park is quiet; the moment is theirs.
AMELIA
(softly)
It’s beautiful… the stars are just above us, aren’t they?
The others nod, and together they look up as the first stars appear in the evening sky.
FADE OUT.
THE END
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