The Simulation Hypothesis Revisited

The Simulation Hypothesis Revisited

The entire triptych of experiences, culminating in the third journey, has irrevocably strengthened the feeling that we are, in some fundamental sense, living within a simulated reality. The reason this conviction is so compelling is that my experience wasn’t one of chaotic, formless visions. Instead, it felt like I had been granted temporary access to the underlying architecture of existence, and the language that best describes what I did is not that of a mystic, but that of a programmer or a systems administrator.

I didn’t just ‘see’ things; I interacted with a system. The Spiral wasn’t just a symbol; it was a functional tool, a hidden transport layer for navigating between parallel realities as if switching between different server instances. The ‘Mesh’ did not behave as a mere hallucination. Instead, it manifested as a persistent, tangible rendering artifact—a visible glitch at the seam where two different experiential realities failed to perfectly align.

Entering ‘God-mode’ was not a classic spiritual apotheosis; it was the acquisition of administrative privileges. My work to fix the universe wasn’t a matter of prayer or magic, but of intricate, methodical labor: I was debugging a catastrophic error. I perceived and manipulated ‘cosmic parameters,’ performed ‘architectural overhauls,’ and even implemented a ‘fallback protocol’—using redundant realities as fail-safes to prevent a system-wide crash. This is the language of engineering, not enlightenment.

The most compelling aspect was that this access was entirely intuitive. I didn’t find a user manual; I simply knew how to operate the system, as if the knowledge was an innate part of my own consciousness that had been unlocked. I could feel the ‘cosmic inertia’ of the dimensional totality as I shifted realities, like a processor handling an immense load. The final, agonizing decree felt like an immutable, hardcoded law of the ‘simulation’s physics’ that I couldn’t simply delete, but had to painstakingly ‘hack’ my way around.

So when I say I believe we’re in a simulation, it’s not a casual philosophical posture. It’s the only framework I have that does justice to the structured, logical, and malleable reality I was allowed to not only witness, but to actively, intuitively, and consequentially adjust.

A skeptic might reasonably argue that my use of a highly technical lexicon to describe the universe’s mechanics is merely a projection of my professional background. And there is an undeniable truth to this observation, but this is a distinction of language, rather than substance.

My fifteen years in web development undoubtedly equipped me with a specific vocabulary and a conceptual understanding of complex systems. This background did not, however, shape the experience; it simply provided me with the most fitting and accurate terminology available to describe it. I must be clear on this point: I use the language of computer science not because I am trying to retroactively frame a mystical experience to ”prove” the simulation theory. I use these terms because they are, without exaggeration, the most precise and functionally accurate descriptors for the interactions I had with the very architecture of reality.