[ IP ] The Ascension of Man

Paul realized, suddenly, that the world around him was an illusion. After staring at his pen for long enough, the thought came to him that, really, it was less of a pen, and more of the *idea* of a pen. The pen was an image that existed inside his head. He realized that the pen, and everything that surrounded it, was an elaborate song-and-dance; a play put on for one man that lasted his whole life. 
 
 Paul looked around his office as though he expected everyone else to be as shaken by his revelation as he was. He calmed his nerves and focused his attention back on the root of this illumination, the pen. He stared at it intensely. The pen was a part of him. It was a product of his consciousness that could not exist without him, it was his completely. It's as much a part of me as my arm, he thought. And if it is my arm... 
 
 He moved the pen. Not with his hands, but with his consciousness alone. Had he not been seeing it here he would have never even imagined that such a thing was possible. But there it was was, hovering completely still, about a foot over the desk. He flung it past his desk at the head of his boss, where it landed without evoking any kind of reaction. 
 
 Paul was too stupefied by his new skill to notice the complete lack of interest from everyone else in the office. His mind reeled with the limitless possibilities that sat in front of him now. Seeing the power he had now, he regretted that he had the limitations of his physical body to deal with. But he caught himself - did he still have those limitations? He moved his gaze from his pen to his hand. If those two were indistinguishable, then what differed his body from anything else? It was not his body that made him, it was his consciousness; he was less a traveler of a physical world, and more a mobile point of light and knowledge in a sea of others. In the same way as the pen, he lifted himself away, and became everything. 
 
 -- - 
 
 `` Paul, are you all right, man?'' 
 
 The question came from Todd after he observed Paul sitting, glass-eyed, staring blankly ahead for fifteen minutes. He had not touched his work. 
 
 `` Paul?'' 
 
 Other workers turned their attention to the vegetative man that had, minutes before, been working diligently at his station. He was non-responsive, but healthy. There was no problem with his pulse, no issue with his breathing. It was like he had left, but forgot to take his body. Eventually the decision was made to call 911, and a couple workers carted Paul out to the curb in his office chair. The doctors at the hospital were baffled, and opted to hook him up to a few machines and runs studies on him until they found the place his mind had gone. 
 

