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The Mind Traveler’s Manifesto

the mind travelers manifesto

Estimated reading time โ€” 10 minutes

Attention Attention, whomever should find this book, please know that I am no longer among the humans on Earth. I have transcended the corporeal plane and am now my own higher being, I am one with my own universe, I am my own God.

As a last request, please save this book for future use, to let others know of what I’ve discovered.

It must not be lost, I beg of you, hold it close and don’t let it go.


The studies have all been separated into 4 distinct chapters:
The Retrograde
The Intermediary
The Functions of Mental Mechanisms and
The Final End Cipher

These studies were all conducted with the help of my special device, a device of my own creation that allows me to see the minds of others and projects them as a sort of false reality.

The device failed many times in the past, and the few that succeeded, are jotted down here.

The device is broken now, and cannot be repaired.

I will now conclude this introduction with a poem. A poem written by the first person I tried this procedure on.

Without any further delay, here are my findings.


Good bye.


Dreams, and thoughts
Why must it all be so mixed, that it makes your head spin?
It rots to the core
It takes me, oh so woefully away, so I shall dream nevermore.


Section I: The Retrograde

Introduction: The following information comes from the journal entries of a depressed novelist. They were asked to write their feelings of a week-long period. Each entry is divided into days, in which the degradatory state of their mind becomes more prominent.

Day 1:
I’m sick…
I’m sore…
I’m tired…
To whomever, it may concern, or whoever happens to be reading this, I am now dead.
I’ve spent my whole life wondering why the hell I was put here, to begin with.
I don’t mind the fact when people tell me that I’m an angry, unwell man.
I stopped trying to figure it out, long ago.
Nothing ever makes sense to me anymore.
I wish I could have at least a small semblance of a clue as to why I feel the way I do. I couldn’t tell you at all.
I had considered myself an intellectual of a small quantity, but with all of these mixed feelings. My brain is a complete and utter mess. I’ve convinced myself that the world is not perfect, anyone with common sense knows it. I feel as though I am defective. Not made to be in this world, I live in a different world than everyone else. I hate it, I hate myself, I hate the way I am. I’m so sick of it. I’ve tried too many times to fix my conditions, but not a thing has worked. I wish it would all just disappear, I wish I could make myself work like I was made to be. Everyone who tries to act with sympathy, I see your lies. I know not a single person gives a damn about anyone else but themselves. False hope remains.

Day 2:
I’m bored, I’ve done nothing but sit and stew with my emotions. My demons come to haunt me every day and night. I never see it as fair, to have all these people dying outside my window it’s just plain despicable. I can’t stand it any longer.
But, this only reinforces my point, the world keeps trying to kill us, and we, the humans, refuse to die.
The isolation has done nothing but torment me. It’s a practical meaning of the phrase hell on earth. I too have a plague of my own, a festering cesspool of lies and self-doubt. I spent the whole year with my sick intentions. A man’s mind is his most powerful tool? I don’t believe it.

Day 3:
A strange occurrence happened today… A person whom I’d never met before gave me the most odd of looks. Almost as if they could read my mind just by sight alone.
Could they see how much strife I’d felt? Maybe it was just a mere glance and nothing more, I wouldn’t know.
Regardless of whether they could tell or not, my blood is tainted, poisoned.
It’s quite clear now.
Perhaps my blood is acid?

Day 4:
Politics are ridiculous.
I don’t see the purpose of it, or why we continue “to” use it. As if it actually helps anything, it only makes way for breeding hate, corruption, and greed.
I hate the fact that the leaders of our country just simply can’t get along. If this keeps up, it’ll be the end of us all.
People endlessly arguing with each other, and for what?
Land, lives, resources?
None of it matters.
Still, what a concept.

Day 5:
Let me ask a question…
If someone you knew and loved died suddenly. Why do you feel the need to neglect your health and proceed to throw your life away over something that can’t be undone?
Death will always happen, and we must live with it.
So, do yourself a favor and move on.
For your own sake.

Day 6:
I burned my books…
They all do nothing but depress and mock me. Line after line on printed page, downplaying me and my failing mental state. It sickens the heart and fills me with dread. Knowledge is useless to everyone.

Day 7:
I’m tired…
So very tired…
No matter long I try to sleep, I never get any better. I’m so conflicted as to what I should do at this point. Happiness is a fleeting hope for me. Why did it leave? Will it come back? I’m not so certain.
This is the end for me.

Section II: The Intermediary

Introduction: A mental patient gave the following information.

“One day it’ll come back to me. One day everything will come back. My life has been filled with hardships, misery after misery. Many people in the same, claustrophobic position as I, don’t stand for it. They either seek help, or they end it all. Such a dreadful thought, that is. When is the last time I have suffered to such an extent, I couldn’t tell you. I’ve had too many moments that could count. All my past hopes, dreams, friends, and even my thoughts had all passed by me before I even knew what had happened.”

“Maybe they’ll come back one day, I can’t let myself fall beyond the line, any and every man and woman suffering the same as I, know what I’m talking of. Such vain attempts at happiness, or some other feeling than constant pain, is something rare for me indeed. Through every dark tunnel, there is a light that promises a better future. How many times have I been left in the dark? Happiness sells a fake smile, and the promises kept are always broken.”

“These futile attempts at fighting off the powers around me are so difficult. The feelings that fill my head with dread, are the same as the ones that keep my heart tied and bound. I have not even control my organs anymore. My own life is no longer mine.”

“The pain I feel changes regularly, sometimes it’s as if I am being beaten down, other times it feels like I am being hoisted high, ready to break my neck. The most common, however, is burning. Oh, how the acid in my blood stings me so. Many times before I have tried to locate the source of the pain, but it’s only found within my inner self. There’s no external pain whatsoever, it feels so unreal to live like this. Going on the hour, after day, after year, it never ceases to amaze how intense the pain can be. I imagine myself in a better place most days. The days of my old life are nothing but foggy memories, there’s no clarity. They can’t be seen anymore, they mean nothing. How much longer must this torture go on.”

“All the days that passed me by, never changed. Stuck in the same cycle, monotony rules my brain. The king of my mind takes no action, drunk on self-pity and apathy. The hangovers he has must be terrible, they do hurt my brain so very much. If ever a man is beaten down and pushed to his limit, he will break. Once broken, he cannot be repaired. The powerlessness of the whole situation does this to me countless times.”

“Haughty shame and lofty qualities all make the impressionable people of today’s world. It’s ridiculous, you pray for everyday miracles. I pray for a day where I’ll feel something other than pain. No, prayer is not the word for me. I never did follow any religion, all my family members would taunt and mock me for it. It feels as though, some days the world has completely turned against me. When the day that all hell breaks loose, and whatever fires or brimstone erupt from that dark abyss, will my absolution be complete.”

“One day a sound will come, a sound that no one has ever heard before. What could the sound be? No one knows, and no one will ever know, for at times the sound only comes to those who have hit their lowest. Only a handful of people know what the sound is. Not even I know of what the sound is, I suppose that’s something to be thankful for. I’m not completely completely gone yet.”

“My own harsher inclinations are to blame for my troubles, life has become so boorish, brash, and short. It arrives too quickly and is gone before anything can be done. Everything passes and everyone says goodbye to the old memories, never knowing what lies ahead beyond the fog. Much like the predictable way of life, it stores no surprises.”

“Albeit, any competent person would say that what I speak makes no sense to anyone or anything. But, does anyone ever stop to think that sometimes events will happen. Regardless of timing or conflicts, objects out of place have no reason as to why they are there, they just exist.”

“I dream it not upon my worst enemy for anyone to fall into obscurity or to be drowned in a sea of gray. If you should fit into that space, it’s a worse punishment than death. It’s one thing to die remembered, but it’s another matter to die in the gray waves, lost in a world that does not see you, and pays you no attention. To want company, and praise is to be human, such is essence.”


“In one sense, I’ve been withered completely by my loneliness, sitting there at my desk, jotting down word after word. Waiting for the day, when my old heart will beat its last. Every pop, crackle, and hum of that which is my shorted heart. Did it fry my brain?”

“Just imagine yourself restrained. The harder you pull, the tighter the binds become. The ceiling splits, revealing an empty abyss into which you stare. It’s a hopeless struggle, and this is what I suffer from every day. No one cares, no one knows, and they don’t deserve to.”

“If it does come back, would I even want it? It would answer nothing, and send this wave through my body. A surge, a stop, and an endless suffering that poisoned my soul and left my life, mental being, and all else about me, torn in sway.”

“Memories, a weak connection between other worlds. The mind, someone’s final retreat. A tarnished entity, and an even more rotten design. If ever you do happen to find your meaning, don’t even bother with trying anymore. Because, chances are that by the time you did figure it out, you were already dead.”


Section II: The Intermediary

These writings are very special. While I studied them in my human form, they gave off a very unsettling feeling. I couldn’t describe it then, but now I know what it is, a sign of an aging brain, trying it’s best to not burn out.

In the end, that didn’t matter for the old fool who wrote this, his brain burned and kept on burning until the end of time.

To spare you the time of reading the whole book, I’ve lifted two excerpts from it.


A Blessed Fool:

“That terrible liar and colossal fool.
Many a time, he has fooled ye.
Both he be that of royalty and of peasantry.
He’s fooled them all with his lies.
Lest his tongue be cut from his throat.
He shall laugh, he shall gloat.
In years to come, in years to pass.
He shall play you time and time again.
Lest you stop and take his life yourself”.


Darkness Rise:

“There was a scream, a beg of mercy. The call was quickly silenced. The man stood above his victim, weapon in hand.
The man called up to the heavens above, as he dropped his weapon.
The man’s mind began to change, accompanied by a faint ringing in the ears.
He hid the body, and cleaned the blood. He screamed and yelled, trying frantically to understand what drove him to this. Taking a knife to himself, the man opened his guts, and fell to the ground, pulsing, and twitching. Now, no one would know what happened this cold night, both who were present were snuffed like a flame to the wind.”


The Functions of Mental Mechanisms:



This writing is also special, but in the sense of that it’s very ill tempered and has no real feeling in it other than pain, sadness, and uncertainty for the outside world and the people who inhabit it.

The author disappeared afterwards, and was never seen again, but he left me the book.

Please read and reflect this writing in perpetuity.


The Function of Reason:

Temptation is a mighty beast, conquering it has proved to be difficult for many. It tells you to give into impulse, and strictly tells you to go with the first option you are given, when faced with a difficult situation. Reason is temptations mortal enemy. The two constantly locked in a fearsome duel. Who will win, who will lose? That is the thought our brains contemplate endlessly. But, for many who find themselves in this manner of thinking. Do not let either choose your path. Both are indeed a terrible force. Temptation leads to hate and anger, reason leads to worry and doubt. Always remember that emotions will never make sense to anyone. We don’t know what triggers these feelings and why they happen in the first place. We humans in our endless search for knowledge into unknown topics that we dared not delve into for so long. Our forefathers and their ancestors before them were right, they shall always be right. Try your best to not indulge these expressions, lest your life be cast away into the sea of uncertainty and self doubt.


The Function of Consequences:

When a great evil is committed, certain actions are taken as a precautionary measure to assure that it shan’t ever happen again, whether by instilling fear of the punishment or to do away with the problem in it’s entirety, all these are one and the same, consequences. Simple acts done for betterment, but occasionally it may not go the way one intended for it to be. Certain people do not react well to punishment. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to war, war leads to extinction. If anytime an attempt is made to consequate the behaviors of those with no moral restraint, give it some thought before doing so.


Section III: The Final End Cipher


When I first attempted to contact the greater ones, or the gods of the other world I am now apart of. They never responded. But, one day in particular, I received a special message from one named Burghog, he described himself as the ultimate ruler of the world I tried to contact. He gave me a cipher, and told, that should I decipher it, and use the phrase at the “gates to the other world”, I’d be granted access.

The cipher is listed below.

Eprsqydyk Oxcbryv

Credit : Thomas Gayle

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