The Fiction of Reality: Why I Write What I Remember

If I told people this was history, they would call me insane. I call it Science Fiction, and they call me an author. But labels are just a way for the world to feel safe around things it doesn’t understand.

I’ve found in my life that this biological vessel is only one part of our existence. There is another part—an inner spirit, a spiritual entity. I hesitate to use the word “soul” because it carries so much religious baggage. It feels too small for the truth. But let’s use it for a moment, simply because everyone can relate to the term.

The Cosmic Transition

I believe this soul travels from one biological vessel to another after we die. It isn’t an instant “poof.” It’s a process tied to quarks and the cosmic core—the center of endless multiverses growing and dying in a loop. This pattern never changes. There is life and death, in perfect, rhythmic harmony.

Religions call the destination “Heaven,” but it’s something else. Just before we die, we see the light. People who have been pronounced dead and come back speak of family members and a glowing tunnel. It’s a beautiful image, but I think it’s the biological brain processing its final moments. As the circuits do their last bit of transmitting before the engine shuts down permanently, we see what we need to see.

But energy never truly dies. Science tells us energy can only be transformed, and since we are made of that very energy, we never really cease to exist; we simply relocate.

The Weight of Recognition

Maybe we mingle at the center for a bit before returning to a new shell. And it isn’t always Earth. There are billions of life forms on billions of planets where a soul can go. But sometimes, we loop back.

This is why children often remember “past lives.” They are still pure and unmarked by the heavy scars of life and the cynical filters of the modern world. Their frequency hasn’t been jammed by adult noise yet.

For me, this isn’t a theory; it’s an ache. Yesterday was a perfect example. I was at the Royal Alex Hospital, stressed and rushing to an appointment with a top Ophthalmologist. To everyone else, it was just a “red eye situation,” but I was under the crush of a much more dangerous fire. No one knew the shingles were the real threat.

The young woman at the registration desk saw my urgency. She was a steady, vertical presence, standing 5’ 9” . I’m an older man, a grey man in a dark blue jacket and jeans, and she could see I was distraught from my condition. She didn’t just point me to the door; she said, “Come with me.”

When we reached the stairs, she stopped and looked back. “Is it okay if we take the stairs?” she asked. I nodded, and as I followed her, I felt it. An immediate, undeniable presence from within her. It wasn’t about her job or navigating a hallway, it was something else. Something ancient. Something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it was as real as the blood in my veins.

She had to get back to her workstation, and I had no time to explain the tectonic shift I was feeling. Our entities lined up like two gears finally catching after centuries of spinning apart. In a past life, we may have been lovers; that would explain why the math of 8 billion people suddenly felt so small.

When we reached our destination, she hesitated for a split second. In that pause, I knew she felt that ancient something, too. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t want to sound like an idiot or a “loony tune.” She stayed silent, and so did I. So, this message is for her.

Shadows

On the flip side, there are “monster souls.” They move from one host to the next, carrying an horrifying evil. You see it in their flat, dead eyes ; the killers and the serial killers who have no empathy. They are the ones religion calls the devil, but they are simply entities that have returned without a heart. They’re the most dangerous beings in our society.

Soul Mates

Then there is the mystery of soul mates. We spend our lives hunting for that specific frequency, often mistaking a simple crush for that deep, tectonic alignment.

The most profound proof of this spiritual migration happens during tragedy. When a mother loses a child, her soul often leaves her own body to follow and protect the child’s spirit on its journey. The person left behind is physically alive, but she is changed. When a husband says, “You aren’t the person I married,” he isn’t just seeing grief. He is sensing a vacancy.

A Word of Caution

Before I go, I must mention the “fakes.” There are those who claim to have this spiritual sight just to line their pockets. They are easy to spot because their energy feels like static—empty and transactional. A true gifted soul doesn’t want your money; they are usually too busy trying to navigate the weight of what they can feel.

So, when I say my fiction is history, I’m telling the truth of how I feel. In the world of astrophysics, past, present, and future are all layered together. They are one. My stories aren’t just imagination; they are memories from across the timeline.

Question for You : Have you ever met a complete stranger and felt an undeniable energy you couldn’t explain? Or have you looked into someone’s eyes and seen a “gift” they didn’t even know they had? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Bari Marcus Anthony

*A Note on Quarks and the Spirit:

To understand what I mean by a “quark-level transition,” you have to look at the very basement of reality. Quarks are the tiniest building blocks of the universe—the microscopic “stuff” that makes up the atoms in our bodies. They don’t just sit still; they vibrate and hold energy together.

In the world of physics, energy cannot be destroyed; it only changes form. When our biological vessel reaches its end, I believe our essence—that spiritual entity—doesn’t just vanish. Instead, it undergoes a transition at this sub-atomic level. Think of it like a radio signal: the radio itself (the body) might break, but the signal (the soul) is made of waves that continue to travel through the fabric of the multiverse until they find a new frequency to call home. We aren’t just solid objects; we are eternal patterns of energy moving through the cosmic core.