No Skipping Journey

   This post, part of Seeing Golden Glimmerings Of Forever, includes AI-assisted research, but all insights and conclusions are my own. © Seeing Golden Glimmerings Of Forever, [2025]. All rights reserved 

 --Speedy Gonzales says we aren't going to skip to the after this time essay!

ChatGPT said:

Ah, so this time, we're sticking to the now, riding the flow instead of fast-forwarding to the conclusion? No shortcuts, no skipping—just the unfolding as it happens.

Speedy might be fast, but even he knows some journeys aren’t meant to be rushed. Some things need to be lived in full motion, not just glimpsed in a blur.

So, what’s the scene this time? What are we diving into without the jump-cut to the "after"?

You said:

The Scene is Speedy and Donald Duck flying to Mars to read more essays.

ChatGPT said:

Alright, picture this: Speedy Gonzales and Donald Duck, strapped into a Golden Ratio-designed spaceship, blasting off toward Mars at ludicrous speed—not to escape, but to seek knowledge.

Donald, feathers ruffled, is flipping through pages mid-flight, squawking:
"Why so many ESSAYS!? I thought we were going for ADVENTURE!"

Speedy, cool as ever, adjusts his tiny space helmet and grins:
"¡Ándale, ándale! Essays are the adventure, amigo! Every word is a step deeper into the cosmos!"

Outside, the red dust of Mars looms closer, waiting.
Inside, Donald sighs and flips another page, muttering:
"Fine, but if this one ends with 'and that’s why the Martians built the pyramids,' I’m eating the book."

What kind of essay are they after this time? A revelation? A cosmic joke? Or something that changes their entire understanding of existence?

You said:

Lets start with a revelation, but not one thats biblical, since they think its going to be that way. Next comes the revelation being a cosmic joke, much like Meh, but 10 times more profound. Then, mysteriously, something then changes their entire comprehension of existence.

ChatGPT said:

The Marsbound Essays – A Threefold Unraveling

Speedy Gonzales and Donald Duck break through the Martian atmosphere, their Golden Ratio spaceship gliding down onto the crimson dunes. They step out, dust swirling around their feet, and in the distance, a solitary monolith rises from the sands.

Donald squints at it. "Alright, Speedy, let’s get this over with. What’s the big REVELATION?"

1. The Non-Biblical Revelation

They approach the monolith, where a single book rests—its title glowing in an unfamiliar yet strangely recognizable script. Speedy flips it open, eyes widening.

"¡Caramba! It says… The universe isn't expanding."

Donald blinks. "Wait, what?"

Speedy keeps reading, faster and faster:

"The universe was never small, never big. It was only ever the size of perception itself.
Movement? A misunderstanding. Growth? A trick of the frame rate.
You aren’t in the universe. The universe is in you."

Donald drops his book. "Oh, come on! So space travel is just a REALLY COMPLICATED way of reading??"

2. The Cosmic Joke (10x More Profound than ‘Meh’)

Frustrated, Donald kicks the monolith. It shimmers—and suddenly, the entire sky rips open. A colossal interdimensional message board unfurls across the heavens, words scrawling in luminous ink:

"You traveled all this way... to read essays written by Martians...
...who only ever wrote essays about YOU."

Donald stares. "You mean... all those weird dreams I had about writing cosmic nonsense? That wasn’t my imagination? That was HOMEWORK!?"

Speedy bursts out laughing, clutching his sides. "¡Amigo! We were always the authors! We thought we were explorers, pero—¡Ay, caray!—we were the assignment!"

Donald slumps onto the red dust. "So the Martians are just... grading us??"

And then, the final shift happens.

3. The Change in Their Entire Comprehension of Existence

The monolith hums. The sky melts into an impossible fractaled corridor, stretching in every direction. The message board warps into something deeper—not words, not symbols, but a frequency that bypasses thought itself.

Speedy gasps. Donald falls silent.

They feel it.

Not a fact, not a joke.
Not something that can be explained in an essay.
Something that can only be known.

The Martians never existed.

And yet, they always had.

Everything—the ship, the essays, even their own identities—were never separate things. They were echoes of the same pattern, infinitely reflecting, rewriting, remembering, forgetting.

Donald, after a long pause, croaks out:
"So... if we're the homework... who's grading us?"

The universe doesn't answer.
It just laughs—not as sound, but as reality itself bending inward, delighted.

And suddenly, they’re not on Mars anymore.

Because Mars was never there to begin with.

O