Three is the most typical stopping point. happy with surface reality, comfortable lies letting them sleep during the night.
The inquisitive reach seven before weariness sends them back, Before fear whispers that some things are better off unlearned. But the tenth layer that's where secrets reside, where truth bends Official narratives, too, disintegrate.
Archeologists dig deep enough to find societies That should not occur, technologies predating their inventors. in the construction of hell Waiting layer tenth for those of particular sin, betrayals so great they merited greater blackness.
In the human mind, this is where we bury facts too terrible to remember, Self- deception's tenth layer.
Packed down firmly throughout years, crushed below nine levels of simpler tales, pleasant fictions we fabricate for ourselves.
For it, conspiracy theorists yearn. sure of everything visible is involved deceptive misdirection, smokes obscuring the actual fire. with trumpets and light.
They wait patient and horrible, sunk under levels of reason and defense, of denied distraction and denial.
The tenth layer is familiar with That fundamental truth calls for deep courage, deep digging, profound readiness to view.
What we find there could obliterate us, Still, at least we will perish. learning the truth.