Summary

The text describes an individual's period of self-imposed isolation, during which they have minimal human contact and experience a profound connection with alternate dimensions to find inspiration for storytelling.

Abstract

The author of the text, known as White Feather, shares a personal account of a period characterized by limited interaction with other people, having only spoken to a convenience store clerk named Cindy in the past 48 hours. This self-imposed seclusion, which the author refers to as becoming a "super recluse," is a recurring phase that lasts for a few months and culminates in significant personal change. During this time, the author engages in a form of creative exploration by envisioning the crossing of dimensional barriers to observe and gather stories and characters from an infinite array of realities. This process is seen as a necessary step to enrich the author's storytelling with unique perspectives and unexpected elements.

Opinions

The author views their infrequent periods of extreme reclusion as a necessary and transformative experience, leading to personal growth and change.
There is a humorous acknowledgment that the author's behavior, such as buying milk despite not drinking it since the age of fourteen, might be perceived as odd by others, playfully questioning whether this should be a cause for concern.
The author seems to value the diversity of experiences across different dimensions, suggesting that writers should explore these to find an endless supply of characters and stories.
There is a sense of wonder and excitement about the existence of parallel realities and the stories within them, which the author accesses through a metaphorical act of pushing their face through the "membranes" separating dimensions.
The text implies that the stories and characters from other dimensions are interconnected with the author's own reality, suggesting a grand narrative that spans multiple realities.
The author expresses a belief in the importance of being open to the unseen aspects of stories to fully understand them, emphasizing the need to look beyond the obvious.

Dimensions of Human Contact

And the men in white coats

I have only come into contact with one other human being in the last forty-eight hours.

Is that a weird thing to say? Should the men in white coats be alerted?

Actually, it is something I cannot say very often. Usually I am a participant in the so-called 3-D world on a daily if not hourly basis. But every few years I go through a period where I disengage from the 3-D and become a super recluse. It usually lasts a month or two or three. I never actually kept track. At the end of every one of these periods is…

… change.

It is the only way out of the maze.

The one human being I came into contact with over the last forty-eight hours is named Cindy. At least that is what her name-tag says. She was the cashier at the local convenience store this morning when I stopped to buy a Pick5 lottery ticket and the smallest container of milk that they had.

It is like Cindy has a switch. Sometimes she is a non-stop chatter-box and other times she is like a perfunctory robot who just barely manages to get out, “Did you find everything okay? Thank you, have a nice day.”

Well, today her switch was switched to ‘robot.’

Okay, I admit it! I bought milk today! May heaven open up and a thunderbolt strike me and cleave me in two!

I was fourteen years old the last time I drank milk!

Is that a weird thing to say? Should the men in white coats be alerted?

It was the same year I renounced the church. I am not sure if that is coincidental or if there is some deeper divine meaning.

Yes, it is true that I have not drunk milk since I was fourteen years old. After all, I am not a baby cow!

But, in guilt and shame, I hereby admit that I occasionally use cow milk in certain recipes! Call me a hypocrite if you must but know that I never actually drink the stuff. I only use it in recipes, much like I do various cheeses which also come through a cow.

Anyway, that is the only human contact I have had in the last forty-eight hours; a quick perfunctory greeting and thank you from a convenience store clerk.

Yeah, that could be a little unsettling but not for me. There simply are times when I like to disengage from the 3-D and poke my head through the membranes between dimensions. Know what I mean?

I thrust my face forward until it almost breaches the membrane. I look through the membrane and there is a whole different world going on in whatever dimension I happen to be looking in on.

That is a good thing right now because I am currently looking for some characters. I have a great story cooking that needs some characters and some unexpected flavors. There are an infinite amount of dimensions and universes and realities out there. For all you writers out there, I suggest that you start poking your face through some membranes. Seriously, there are so many characters out there and so many stories out there! The supply is truly infinite.

Don’t you just love poking in on and viewing these other realities? I mean, they are going on right now! Just on the other side of some permeable membrane! All we have to do is stick our face through that membrane!

The funny thing about many of those stories we witness in nearby dimensions is that they are almost always connected to stories we are experiencing in the dimension we feel stuck in. The threads between dimensions is long and connects so many stories that following them all may very well lead us back to a primal story of who we might be beyond all the membranes.

Sometimes, when one is compelled to swim through other dimensions it can be facilitated by a loosening of our grip on the one dimension we cling to. When we see the greater connections the overall story-line becomes suddenly obvious.

Every story has aspects both seen and unseen. For the full story to emerge we must be willing to stick our faces through membranes.

In the last forty-eight hours I have come into contact with five beings — none of them in my apparent reality. They have all agreed to play roles in the story that is coming through. They have all agreed to reveal secrets from their own stories and their own realities. They have all agreed to play parts in a forthcoming ongoing story. How cool is that?

Is that a weird thing to say? Should the men in white coats be alerted?

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