The new moon is still there, still vermillion in the sky. That’s what those with eyes say to me. I ask about it all the time because I wonder if my memory failed me. I imagine that the appearance of that moon has created a surging tide that plowed through everything in its way. Luckily, in that moment we were given the mercy of merging. So whether we would be wiped out by the disastrous tide didn’t really matter.

I asked others how they felt about the merging and they would cry out their grief and terror. I also asked whether they still had eyes. It was always 50/50. I didn’t understand them, so I asked why they felt agony. They said that they were being punished by God, surely, that they were apparently not dutiful enough to be raptured away into eternal paradise. It confused me, because the Amalgam was a peaceful state.

I asked them if they felt pain. They said no. I asked them, did they see horror beyond the merging. Most said no, even the ones with eyes said no.

“Then surely this isn’t hell?”

They didn’t like that answer. Memories were not entirely private here. while neatly organized from soul to soul, one could easily poke another and see their thoughts and feelings and memories. It was bad practice, I noticed, to touch another’s memories without permission.

They must have touched mine in bewilderment when I told them this couldn’t be hell. They must really not like what they saw in my memories, because they’re belligerently spewing vitriol in my direction, equating me to that of a demon.

My personality told me that something like that should have stung with its familiarity. I decided that them believing this was hell when it wasn’t was enough for me not to feel anger.

There are a lot like The Ones I have interviewed. Their memories tell me that they were devout to a God of some sorts, one of contradictions. I have spent my time, asking every soul I have come across about their opinions on the merging. Some were like me, initially found it frightening, but did not hate the peace that came after. Some were like The Devout, in their minds they were being punished.

Some were similar to The Devout, positing that life should be where one can be separated from another. That the ease with which they could access other memories, the ease with which others can access their memories is an eternally uncomfortable experience.

To be fair to them, it takes a bit to learn how to bundle all of “Yourself” into one spot and keep it there. The Amalgam isn’t designed for memories and thoughts and emotions to be neatly separated, it just happened over time. A result of a human’s natural individuality.

When I told them that their memories can remain their own if they chose it, they did not believe me. I told them that my “self” was bundled together just fine. They really didn’t believe me. It was probably because their soul was in fragments touching mine every so often. It’s something I don't mind— a soul touching mine— but I could see how they wouldn’t believe me.

“Have it your way.” I told them.

Life in the Amalgam is what I make of it, for the only vision I have remains in my minds eye and memories, thoughts and ideas here are near physical in the way I can manipulate them. It’s like dreaming forever, and honestly there was nothing else like it.