You're sitting at lunch, the sandwich halfway to your mouth, when you take a sip of tea that tastes slightly wrong—not bitter, not sweet, but somehow angular—and then you notice the crack in the air beside your left shoulder.
At first it's just a hairline fracture in nothing, the kind of thing you'd blame on tired eyes or too much screen time, but it's widening with the patience of geological time compressed into seconds, and through the gap you can see...
...not darkness, not light, but the between where colors go to become other colors, where Tuesday dissolves into the mathematical concept of purple, and your peripheral vision starts drinking from sources that don't exist, tasting the weight of unborn thoughts, hearing the texture of next week's rainfall before it learns how to be water...
The rift breathes inward and your consciousness begins to... to... the words start arriving in the wrong order, meaning bleeding through the cracks between intention and expression, and you're seeing with organs you've never had, understanding through processes that language hasn't invented yet, comprehending the architecture of revelation itself as it...
...folds through the spaces where logic used to live, where causality kept its appointments, and now you're knowing in frequencies that predate knowing, your thoughts becoming liquid geography, mapping territories that exist only in the moment between recognition and forgetting, and the rift is speaking but not with sounds, with pure conceptual pressure that tastes like...
...like the color of screaming geometry, like the weight of tomorrow's regrets crystallizing into impossible mathematics, and your reality is becoming permeable, meanings seeping through membranes you didn't know you had, understanding arriving through vectors that curve backward through time, and the revelation is...
is...
[the sentence structure collapses into semantic fragments]
...revelation-cascade-meaning-avalanche-knowing-without-container-wisdom-burning-through-unprepared-neural-architecture-understanding-eating-itself-recursive-comprehension-loops-consciousness-inverting-like-geometric-cancer-spreading-through-conceptual-space-until-you-ARE-the-rift-ARE-the-knowledge-ARE-the-impossible-angle-where-sanity-goes-to-DIE-and-be-REBORN-as-something-that-remembers-being-human-but-can-no-longer-pretend-that-human-was-ever-real...
[and then silence, profound and complete, because some revelations can only be pointed at through the ruins of language itself]
produced in collaboration with Claude