\r\nThis was written November 28th, 2025<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\nThe Experiment<\/h2>\r\n\r\n
1 – A letter<\/h3>\r\n
\r\nIf this doesn’t work out, or maybe works out as intended, then you might be\r\nfind this letter, and I must apologize to you. No, I did not hate life, nor\r\nhave suicidal ideation. To me, it’s simply a scientific experiment, try to push\r\nthe limits of my curiosity. Ever since I’ve learned about the concept, I’ve\r\nbeen obsessed. What if? And how to know? I don’t care about applications or anything\r\nof the sort, but I seek the truth…or at least get as probabilistically close to it\r\nas I can. And since it’s a purely subjective matter, based on your unique perception,\r\nthere was no way to leave it in someone else’s hands, no matter the risks. I simply\r\nhave to try it for myself, it’s the only way. And if it works, I might be able to share\r\nit with someone else, but obviously they themselves won’t be able to have such great\r\ncertitude, unless they try it for themselves.\r\n<\/p>\r\n
\r\nPhrasing it like this, it almost sounds like a virus that could propagate from person\r\nto person, haha. But no, I should keep a more appropriate and somber tone for this.\r\nHere I am, maybe the first person to ever attempt to get to the bottom of this, maybe not.\r\nProbabilistically speaking, it’s rather unlikely that I would be in the same universe as\r\nsomeone else who pushed it far enough to have high-confidence in the theory. Ah well,\r\nwish me luck!\r\n<\/p>\r\n
\r\nIf you find my corpse, I do sincerely apologize, but it is too hard for me to ignore this\r\nthirst for an answer, and I must quench it at any cost. In the end, know that I was happy\r\nand am satisfied with the life I’ve led. And I’m eternally grateful to all of you for all\r\nof your support and help, for your presence from the most minute to the most significant\r\nparts of my existence. I wish you all the best, and thank you sincerely. Sorry I didn’t\r\ndiscuss this with any of you before starting the experiment, but I couldn’t accept being\r\ndissuaded or impeded. It is ultimately the greatest regret that I can’t just come back\r\nafter the facts to share the results with you, although from my own perspective, it’ll\r\nseem like I can. But ultimately, I’m familiar enough with the concept to know that I’m\r\nalso leaving some of you behind.\r\n<\/p>\r\n
\r\nEnough dilly-dallying, time to move on with it.\r\n<\/p>
\r\nSincerely,\r\nT.\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n
\r\nWell, here I was, finally trying to go through with my rather gruesome experiment. If I\r\nwas mistaken, it would be regrettable, I would just die, and that would be it. What’s\r\nworse, I wouldn’t even satiate my curiosity, since I would be welcomed by a complete void.\r\nBut it was pointless worrying about this, I knew I wouldn’t allow myself to get cold feet,\r\nnor leave any room for regrets. I just had to know, once and for all.\r\n<\/p>
\r\nSo, step one, get the gun out. I could definitely feel the trepidation. My heart starting\r\nto beat harder, my awareness shifting. Yes, I had been planning this for a long time, but\r\nit didn’t mean anxiety and anticipation could be completely avoided. A deep breath, time\r\nto swallow my saliva and load the gun. Ok, ready. And of course, I did not want to\r\ninconvenience others too much, so the basement was all covered in tarpaulin, limiting the\r\nultimate mess. Deep inhalation. Gun to the temple. Hold the breath in. Remove the safety.\r\nDeep exhalation. Place my index on the trigger. I was starting to shake, but I was rea…\r\n<\/p>
\r\nDing-Dong. Someone at the door. I almost had a heart attack! The panic intensified, I\r\ncouldn’t let anyone find me like that! I quickly ran to the cabinet to hide the gun,\r\nalong with the letter.\r\n<\/p>
\r\nWhat about the tarp? Fuck! I couldn’t let anyone find me in this state, they’d be sure\r\nto take me away! Welp, I quickly tried to roll it back and hide it in a nearby box,\r\nbefore running back upstairs to answer the door.\r\n<\/p>
\r\nAnd what for? A simple prank from nearby kids. Ah well, with the rush of the situation,\r\nand adrenaline still pumping through my system, I wasn’t ready to move on with my\r\nexperiment, so I decided to shelve it for the rest of the day.\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n
\r\nWell, here I was again, ready to re-attempt the experiment. The basement was once again\r\nready, the weapon locked and loaded. I released the safety, and just as I was getting\r\nready to bring the weapon to my temple, there went my phone! I got so startled that I\r\nactually pulled the trigger, BANG! Straight down into the tarp and the floor…this would\r\nbe a hard one to explain. I looked at the phone and saw my mom was calling. I opted to\r\nshelf the experiment one more time, and answer the call, it would have to wait for\r\nanother time…yet again.\r\n<\/p>
\r\nShould I continue with the experiment? Of course I had to, I wanted to know whether there\r\nwas a kernel of truth behind Quantum Immortality<\/a>. But at this point, with two failures\r\nso close to the goal, and one with an actual discharge, I wasn’t sure I had the guts\r\nto use the gun anymore. Time for another tactic, but what?\r\n<\/p> \r\nMaybe drowning? But that sounded rather painful, so I quickly discarded it. Exsanguination?\r\nSimilar concerns, too painful and too slow. Jumping off a building or a bridge? Well…\r\nit would be final, and there’d be no going back, but it actually wasn’t that accessible\r\nof a means anymore. I figured it might have to be pills or hanging myself. The former\r\nwould probably be less traumatic for anyone finding me though.\r\n<\/p> \r\nAccordingly, I did a quick search online for the lethal dose for the sleeping pills\r\nI had access to as an insomniac. With the next refill, I’d have enough, so I went to the\r\npharmacy and made up a story about having dropped all of my pills and needing my refill.\r\nLuckily, the pharmacist didn’t care much, and just acquiesced.\r\n<\/p> \r\nNow, time to get everything ready. I opted to do this overnight, so I first gave myself\r\na great evening first, in case my hypothesis was wrong. An amazing dinner, followed by a viewing of\r\none of my favorite movies. Ok, I was ready, so I set the scene. Prepared my letter, emptied the\r\nbottle in my mouth, sat back, and tried to relax. As much as I could with this nauseating\r\ntaste permeating through my mouth…these were not pleasant whatsoever! Creeeeeek….\r\n<\/p> \r\nWait…what? Someone was entering? Oh no, would my experiment be….\r\n<\/p> \r\nI’m pretty sure that’s when I blacked out.\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n \r\nThe next day was a rather weird jumble of things. My brain was a complete mess, and\r\nnothing would really stick much, just a huge haze. I remember the general events here\r\nand there, but no details. Of course, my friend who had my spare keys decided to come\r\nover. Turns out he’d been told about the gunshot by someone in the neighborhood, and had\r\ncome to investigate. Not having heard from me in a few days, he’d been worried and opted\r\nto come in right away. Well, he found me on the sofa, labored breathing, in the midst of\r\nlosing consciousness. He tried to wake me up, but no results, so the ambulances were\r\nsummoned. Obviously, once I was in the ER and my situation was stable, he went back to\r\nmy place to see if anything needed to be put in order. That’s when he found the letter,\r\nthe pistol, the tarp and the hole in the floor.\r\n<\/p> \r\nOf course, I woke up in the mental ward. I couldn’t believed me, but they’d accused me\r\nof having lost it. Such erratic and uncharacteristic behavior, and hysteria in the letter,\r\nboth concerning in its subject matter and tone, with somber and humourless joke. They\r\nwere concerned and panicked, and so did what they deemed right, to lock me away, protect\r\nme from myself. And I was so frustrated, so upset, but what could I possibly do. I’d\r\nseemingly failed my experiment, and wouldn’t have any new shot at it for a while.\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n \r\nThis is the content of the interview I received from one of the most interesting patients\r\nI’ve met. I’ve rarely seen any ward patient allegedly coming from such a hysteric and\r\nmad pattern, that simultaneously felt so detached and rational. He was clearly in charge\r\nof his reason, yet his tendencies prevented him from being released. Allegedly, following\r\nthis rationality and his good behavior, he’d been given more leeway, but each time, he\r\nyet again was found having either planned or attempted his own demise. Yet, with miracle\r\nluck, something always happen to bail him out. Now, no matter his behavior, he’s a permanent\r\nfixture of the ward, with no plan of any release.\r\n<\/p> \r\nAfter having interviewed him, I opted to research Quantum Suicide and Quantum Immortality\r\nmyself, and can’t help but think he misinterpreted his results. What if his experiment\r\nwas actually a success? After all, if it’s really a probability game, wouldn’t that be\r\nthe most likely scenario in which someone like him would continue live? Agency being taken\r\nout of his own hands sounds like a good candidate.\r\n<\/p>\r\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This was written November 28th, 2025 The Experiment 1 – A letter If this doesn’t work out, or maybe works out as intended, then you might be find this letter, and I must apologize to you. No, I did not hate life, nor have suicidal ideation. To me, it’s simply a scientific experiment, try to … Continue reading Writing Challenge 2025 – 01 – The Experiment<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"bgseo_title":"","bgseo_description":"","bgseo_robots_index":"index","bgseo_robots_follow":"follow","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2422","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2422","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2422"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2422\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2426,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2422\/revisions\/2426"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2422"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2422"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shawnmeanders.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2422"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}4- Awakening<\/h3>\r\n\r\n
5 – Epilogue<\/h3>\r\n