Submerged in a world of strife, you think you've almost figured it out, then the world shows you how little you really know, how little you'll ever know. Later, you realize the context of all these things, outside of all the games, ad you know the meaninglessness of it all, and it all makes sense and you lay back and wait for death. Then you realize, that after this understanding, a whole other layer of illusion lay around you, and it became so clear, and you were freed from all the burdens of life and mind and karma, and you were at peace, above the trap of meaninglessness, and found perfect contentment with the march toward the future, whether you die today or in a hundred years, you were at peace. Out there, beyond the world, beyond the emptiness in which the world rested, one final mystery came to you. Thus, but not with fear or boredom or need, you set aside your enlightenment and stepped back down into the world of causality and mortality and clothed yourself in ignorance to live in strife. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.