My Autobiographical Explosion

My Autobiographical Explosion

Contemporary literary productions are now manufactured in the literal sense through the limitless capabilities of artificial intelligence. At the same time, they perpetuate grave stereotypes of mechanised literary creativity. The sophistication of today’s cut-and-paste literary processes and various forms of literary construction has reached such an alarming level that even advanced plagiarism-detection technologies often prove inadequate in identifying plagiarised writing.

Every work produced in the present age appears to contain innumerable, untraceable and uncountable sources. This phenomenon of literary manufacturing, co-piloted by ghostwriters and ghostpublishers, has evidently established its sinister influence within the worlds of literature and publishing. Feeling suffocated by such an artificially created pseudo-literary climate, I find myself compelled to withdraw from the art of genuine writing.

Yet I remain confronted by profound inner creative turmoil. I cannot silence my pen, nor can I cease writing. Consequently, I have embraced a form of writing that lies beyond the reach of either artificial intelligence or plagiarism. In short, I have begun a journey inward into the true landscape of my soul. This is an autobiographical exploration. It is a confession addressed to my beloved mother, offered openly and without concealment. Indeed, it is my public confession to all of you.

At this fag end of my life, the only aspiration that remains within me is the pursuit of redemption. What I now seek is either the Occidental concept of Purgatory or the Oriental ideal of Moksha, both elusive, intangible, and ultimately beyond the reach of my rational understanding. Yet this is the path upon which I must seek atonement, endure suffering, and finally repent. The experience of either Purgatory or Moksha, however, is exceedingly difficult to attain. Nevertheless, the conventional conceptions of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory reassure me, or at least I believe, that I possess the eligibility to experience either these spiritual or virtual realms, in fact, understood as Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, or Moksha.

Throughout my adult life, I have read numerous philosophical and spiritual reflections that affirm the possibility of life after death. If the existence of the soul is accepted on logical or philosophical grounds, and if the soul itself is indeed immortal, then perhaps I may one day record my experiences of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, or Moksha. Should the same destiny await my readers, you too may one day read and witness my testimony concerning those transcendent realms. Such writings will constitute the final chapter and ultimate epilogue of this autobiography.

Until then, you may regard this autobiographical journey, together with the people who inhabit its pages, as fiction or, at best, as narratives born of lived experience.