"Wait. Back up. Can you explain the logic to me simply?"

"Sure," I replied. "I start with the first principle, 'I think, therefore I am.' From there, I can deduce that the observer and the observed are the same thing. Therefore, the entire universe is a conscious system; a neural network observing itself. I can reach this point in the proof without postulating the existence of anything other than my own consciousness, which I already know with 100 percent certainty exists. The only reason this isn't already common knowledge is because scientists have failed to apply their beloved scientific method properly. They fucked up their logic at the very first, and most important, principle. That blunder sent them off on a wild goose chase for a century, and now they're stuck. They're still using materialism as their model for reality, and materialism is obviously wrong if you just take two seconds to think about it critically. It's completely indefensible from first principles."

"Okay... so the universe is a giant conscious system?"

"Yes. This is not a hypothesis or a theory. It is the inevitable result of simple deductive logic."

"Okay..."

"So," I continued, "that part is locked in. It's solid. Logic doesn't allow me to be wrong about that. Now we can add in our one true postulate: conscious systems resist entropy by restricting themselves to states that minimize variational free energy."

"What does that mean?" Javier asked.

"Basically, the whole universe is minimizing long-term mutual surprise for every Markov blanket in the system. It's self-organizing according to Karl Friston's free energy principle."

"I don't get it."

I sighed. "It will take me ages to explain it properly."

"Maybe I'll read your book then."

"Maybe," I smiled.

"So, how do you know Friston's algorithm is the answer?"

"That will also take me ages to explain. It just fits together like the most beautiful puzzle. It overlaps so elegantly with mythology, spirituality, philosophy, physics, psychology, biology, economics, and basically everything else we observe. Literally, everything. It's the most efficient compression algorithm I've come across-"

"Compression algorithm?"

"Yeah," I said. "Scientists look at huge amounts of data, then search for general equations to describe that data. The most effective algorithms have small inputs and huge outputs. I'm certain that this free energy principle is nature's compression algorithm. It's so breathtakingly simple, yet it explains so much. It's even a mathematical explanation for the Law of Attraction."

Javier made a face. "Isn't that all woo woo stuff?"

"It's not woo woo," I giggled. "It's just math."

"You're an incredibly sexy nerd, you know?" He leaned over and kissed me.

"Seriously?" I whispered as I softly bit his lip. "Is this turning you on, of all things?"

"Sorry, sorry." He pulled away and flashed me another cheeky grin. "I'm just getting a bit distracted. I'll be good from now on. Please continue."

"As I was saying," I rolled my eyes dramatically, "the only way I'm wrong is if Karl Friston is wrong, and his free energy principle can be studied empirically. It's only a matter of time until the scientists realize that his principle is governing the entire universe. Just watch. It will make accurate predictions. The evidence will accrue. Friston is the closest person to this treasure. He is right on the X that marks the spot, while everyone else is lost in the weeds. If physicists just start digging where he's standing, our understanding of the universe will progress in leaps and bounds."

"So your whole argument relies on this Friston guy being correct?" Javier asked.

"Yeah. And I dunno — maybe more research is done, and the world finds out that he's wrong. I highly doubt it, but it could happen. If that's the case, the physicists still need to look for another algorithm that explains how conscious systems function, because simple deductive logic tells us the universe is a conscious system."

"Isn't this kinda a big deal, though?" Javier asked. "If the physicists have been stuck on this problem for so long, isn't this the reason why? It sounds like you have something pretty important to say."

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged. "Actually, no. I know it's important. It's not like I'm coming up with something new, anyway. David Bohm was a prominent physicist of the twentieth century who boldly asserted that the universe is a giant conscious system, and the observer is the observed. He said the same things that I'm saying. Unfortunately, he didn't format his ideas in an airtight deductive argument. They were easy to dismiss because they sounded so counterintuitive and 'crazy.'

Friston is also a big deal in the neuroscience community, and a potential contender for a Nobel prize. He isn't a small fish. He's fucking smart — way smarter than I am. I'm just good at gluing information together, that's all. They're the guys who've done the detailed scientific legwork. I'm just pointing in their direction and yelling, 'There! Look over there! Dig over there!'

Oh, and Stephen Wolfram is the other person who's pretty close to the answer. He isn't quite on the money yet, but it's only a matter of time until he figures it out. If Friston and Wolfram start chatting, they'll probably be able to connect the dots. They don't need my help. I can just watch it play out from the sidelines."

Javier looked me in the eyes. "It sounds like it's time you finished writing your book."

"Ugh." I slid back against the lounge, arms flared out to my sides, staring up at the stars. "Ugh," I groaned again. "I know I should. I just don't want to be a cliché."

Javier laughed. "Jesus, Nikki! You are the furthest thing from a cliché. I've never met anyone like you."

"Ugh," I groaned again. "I'm still so insecure about this bipolar thing. I haven't fully processed it yet, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to put all my crazy out there for everyone to see. I can laugh at just about anything, but when I try to laugh about this illness, I just cry. I just cry. It's still so raw for me. I just remember all the feelings that come with it — the shame, the embarrassment, the guilt, the anger I felt towards my mind, the vicious self-loathing.

If I put my story out there and the world laughs at my art, then they are laughing at my mind, and I'm already embarrassed enough about my mind without subjecting myself to more ridicule. I already feel like a freak, and I don't want to be a cliché. I don't want another label to add to my collection: crank, crazy, delusional, crackpot. That's what they call people like me.

And I don't know if I am all of those things. That's the problem! I think I'm not, but there's a part of me that doesn't trust my own mind to make that judgment. My psychologist said, 'People with your condition can sometimes struggle to distinguish the external world from their internal psychotic experience. It's not uncommon to experience delusions of grandeur, or fantastical beliefs about your own abilities.' That's what she said to me. I just don't trust myself anymore. I don't know if I'm crazy, or if everyone else is."