"Was I broken? Or was I remembering something?"
Growing up, I lived with two shadows that followed me everywhere.
The first was night terrors—not the standard monster-under-the-bed stuff, but something stranger: a fear without a face.
I'd wake up paralyzed, dropped into a place so abstract and enormous it didn't even feel alive. It was as if I'd become nothing but energy—a tiny part of something on the verge of bursting.
I couldn't name it. Explaining it to anyone was impossible.
My only words came out as a kind of code.
My mother still remembers them: "something blowing up."
The second shadow was its daytime echo—profound, disorienting moments of déjà vu.
Not the vague, passing feeling of familiarity most people talk about—
but absolute, 100-percent certainty that I had lived a moment before.
Not just the sights and sounds—
but the exact thought I was having right then.
It was a perfect, sudden replay.
For decades, these were just defects. Glitches in the system.
I was a person with a strange bug, a mystery I had to solve, if only for my own sanity.
Was I broken?
Or was I remembering something?
This book is the answer to that lifelong question.
It's the record of a quest that began in a terrified child's bedroom and reached all the way to the beginning of the universe—and came full circle back again.
It's the story of how solving my private mystery unraveled into a theory of everything, a framework I call Conformal Conscious Cyclic Cosmology: C4.
What you're about to read isn't simply a scientific proposal.
It's the story of a theory that, I've come to believe, caused its own discovery.
My terrors weren't a glitch: they were the first clue.
My déjà vu wasn't a bug: it was a feature.
They were echoes.
And I was, perhaps, simply the person tuned to listen.