Non-Fiction

The Confessions of Matthias Buchinger

The following details were revealed to me in a trance by an entity claiming to be the Bardo-bound consciousness of Matthias Buchinger.

First I will give you a basic bio on Buchinger, whom I was also unfamiliar with until after having channeled a telepathic being claiming to be him.

He was born in Anspach, Germany in June of 1674 without fully formed limbs. His legs commenced shortly below the waist and his arm protrusions were described as fin-like and of various lengths. Despite this he was an exceedingly capable man, physically and intellectually, and overcame his handicaps through the accrual of many talents. In fact it was said that his talents would have been considered exceptional even if he did not attain them through such adversity.

As a musician he was skilled with several instruments, some of which he designed and adapted to his own abilities. He was a highly capable illusionist and conjurer, as well as a master of other tricks and cons, especially those which could net him a profit. When not performing or gambling he was an adept artist and calligrapher, as well as a noted writer. He performed for royalty on three occasions, was known far and wide as ‘The Wonderful Little Man of Nuremberg’, and had four wives and roughly a dozen children.

Not bad for a man of 17th century Germany, let alone a lifelong quadriplegic.

However this is not the whole story, according to the entity which contacted me claiming to be Buchinger. In fact the story I got was far more incredible, although the entity seemed to believe it had all been a fraud.

I will repeat the entities claims from it’s perspective, but from my own words.

I was born fully formed with hands and feet and a perfectly healthy and normal body. As the youngest of nine children I learned almost from birth how to perform for attention. In doing so I learned that peoples perception of me was mostly a construct I had created from these performances. I became increasingly curious just how absurd I could make myself appear to them if I maintained a consistent enough narrative around a given charade.

I started small by using basic tricks of the mind to make people believe I was much bigger than I was. This was by the time I was five. By the time I was a teenager I could spin such complex narrative webs that I was able to make people believe I was a small talking dog, which is a great trick, but not a living.

Then one day I stumbled upon the idea of appearing as a quadriplegic. If my audience thought a legless man with no hands was giving even the most basic performances, he would be revered as a miracle and given a decent enough stature and career as a result. So from that moment on I made myself appear to all humans as essentially limbless, with just enough stumpage to make the illusion work.

From there it did not take long for me to revise my own history to match. What you would call the Mandela Effect are the magical after effects of historical revision, which branches out into our entire narrative of the past and present to create memory discrepancies that cannot be rationally resolved. Using this very basic trick it eventually appeared to everyone that I had actually been born this way. Even the official records reflected that.

The truth is that my performances themselves were tired cliches. I was unoriginal, untalented and only given to that singular trick of illusion. Its results were indeed practically rewarding, but from a personal sense, I never felt fulfilled. Given such a proclivity for magic I could have done great things, but instead became a party favor who spun cheap tricks for the easily amused.

As a man living in 17th century Germany I was successful enough to enjoy a pleasant life, but as an artist and magician I feel like a one trick pony with no ambition or talent. And only by confessing this do I feel I can move on from the inescapable feelings of fraudulence and regret into the next cycle of existence. So please, hear my truth and accept my apology.

After that message the voice of Buchinger, or whoever/whatever it was, immediately evaporated from my mind and I felt compelled to share the tale. Yet I am still not sure whether the entity was actually Matthias confessing, or some other being trying to rewrite history for some other reason. Or just some flight of my imagination. Nonetheless I felt it a compelling enough story to share it and will leave it for your consideration without further speculation on my part.

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