Television is boring now. It used to be so enthralling, and I could sit in front of the pixelated screen for hours. I would watch documentaries, and life skills- all the things that I couldn't see in my every day life.

But now everything is dramas, and soap operas. Movies. There's nothing interesting to ponder over anymore, just who cheated on who.

But I'm bored. All those exciting new things grew old, fast.

I have ideas, I just can't bring them to fruition. What would people think, the mad scientist that lives on his own. The old Youtuber, that famous one... Phil?

Computers aren't as bad as television, but they're heading in that superficial direction.

When I stopped doing Youtube, a lot of people tried to convince me otherwise. They said I had a gift, that I was charismatic. But that doesn't mean anything to me. I was bored of sitting in front of a camera, and talking. Then sitting in front of a computer, editing. Then sitting in front of the computer still, waiting to see people's reactions to my rambling.

Now no one listens to me talk. After all, I am mad.

Dan, my best and last friend moved into radio. Radio is far too simple, but Dan talks. He's not interested in the airwaves or frequencies. He's doing well, I miss him.

But it was my choice to become like this. I've dedicated my life to science. I've given everything up to ponder over the wonders of the universe.

Everything is so big, I never get bored. There's always something to think about, a different subject every day.

Today's subject doesn't have a name. I've never been the most talented concerning words. Imagination, and reality are the main subjects.

It is the brain that registers pain, nothing else. The brain controls everything, so what would happen if it tricked itself?

I've decided to conduct an experiment. I will see if the brain really can be deceived.

***

I'm sat at my desk, writing about typical global warming, when a shadowed figure bursts into my room.

I live alone, and no one ever visits, so I know he broke in. Emergency.

However, before I can do anything, the dark-clothed man pulls out a small, but deadly-looking pocketknife. I know what will happen.

As was expected, the blade has been inserted into my side. But it hurts more than I thought it would. It makes me want to howl in pain, and cry. I think I do.

I fall to the floor of my study, my attacker has gone. The knife is sticking out from my rib cage, and I'm finding it hard to breathe. It has punctured one of my lungs. I don't have much time.

I let the thoughts I repressed float their way back inside my mind. Thoughts of regret, self-loathing and, Dan.

It was only a small crush, a frisson of attraction before I left. It never fully developed, but it was still there.

I'm usually good at holding thoughts outside my conscious mind, I guess I was born with the skill. Good scientists need this quality, because they can't afford to be distracted, or taken off track.

My vision is getting smaller now, and a sudden feeling of panic rips itself through me. With it, all those thoughts I cast aside shoot back inside my brain. One sticks out: The Experiment.

I reach down to where the knife was, and find it gone. But the wound still remains. My breathing is still labouring. My vision of my bookcase getting smaller.

But I'm happy. I know that I am dying- something I've never feared -and it's natural.
However, the main reason behind my happiness, is because I have an answer.

The brain can be tricked. Even when it knows it is being deceived, it still allows itself to stay under that rock.

I passed.