I don't really know how to characterize my work in this world. The modern view of work is that it is something done for money, something which is required everywhere one goes and dispersed by a select few who happen to possess it in massive quantities. This process is meant to be above reproach and criticism: do not ask why money is ubiquitously required, do not ask how those few came to possess so much money, do not pay any attention to the man behind the curtain. But those of us who have to know HAVE to peer behind the curtain, and we have to tell others what we saw there if we are to bear any responsibility towards the truth of things. My work is to know everything, a demanding, evolving, and thankless job. But I don't do it for money— in fact, I cannot do this job for money, it just won't work like that. I work at corporations for money. I investigate the truth for comfort. I am a deeply uncomfortable person when placed within other peoples' worlds— but knowing everybody inhabits my own world feels great, natural even. There is a Greater Reality which we all inhabit, and that is what I consider my world. And yet while I know that my life could be greatly enhanced by money, the idea of working for it feels intensely unpalatable these days. It's not really money I want, anyways— I want to live in a world without a need for human laws, and that will require a world with significantly less humans in it. While I could conceivably make enough money to sequester myself away from human beings into a lovely and comfortable abode, that isn't ultimately the reality I really want. The world is my home, and I want to feel comfortable throughout the entirety of it. No amount of money is going to offer me that kind of reality because the reality I want to escape now was made corrupt via money itself. But what will offer me that kind of reality? Well, that's a secret I'm not about to go into. But I know that extraordinary things are quite possible, and that my work in this world is to make them more probable.
