I am glad to know that most humans on this planet will never know of the great terrors that lurk far away outside our dimensions and reach.
At least they will be oblivious to their existence merely moments before it is all too late.
I dread to think about the possibility of the world completely colliding with the rift, time will be no more, atoms will be ripped apart, humanity will perish and whatever hideous and ungodly creature will survive the apocalypse will turn the resulting chaos into the greatest horror that ever existed or will exist.
Maybe I have already gone mad with the knowledge that no species on our beloved earth was meant to posses but I doubt that even madness could create visions more abhorrent than the ones fluttering before my eyes at every moment.
If humanity is lucky or good or faithful enough, at this point I do not know what will or will not work, we may have a chance of slowing even if not halting our impending demise.
I pray that the knowledge I have acquired over the past days (Or was it hours? Years maybe.) holds the key to prolonging what little time we have left therefore I implore whoever finds this to make sense of what is to me incomprehensible. My mental state has too much delayed with the pictures and visions clogging my mind to the point where a mere thought requires the utmost of discipline to hold for more than seconds in my mind before it is over-flooded with what I dare not put in words, if that is even possible.
The assumption that this report has made it through the vast ocean of dimensions to a capable human being is very presumptuous indeed, it is however the only thought making me cling to what is left of my sanity.
What I have been able to make out in my ocean of forbidden knowledge it that no being, however sentient, shall be allowed to enter the rift lest it further weakens the bonds that I so foolishly ripped apart in my naive sense of discovery.
The world, if you could even call it that, lying beyond the border, is not a place any human may survive in, neither my potions, that I brought with me, nor my spells pose a permanent resistance to the Atmosphere that surrounded me since I arrived here. Worse even, no possible path to return, at least not in a human state, has opened itself to me. There have been propositions, all including an uncomfortable degree of alterations to my body and mind, which I understandably all declined.
Going mad is not the preferred end which I envisioned for myself, despite that it is at the eleventh hour better than literally losing my mind.
But even in these dire circumstances the smallest cinder of hope manages to kindle. At least the enchantments I made to my estate during research, will keep out any possible unlucky sods foraging for something in an old manor deep in the woods far from any village or known road.
For any, adept enough in magic, who break through my defences shall encounter the remains of my ritual and if they are unfortunate enough encounter beings from this side. The worst possibility and I shutter at the thought of it, they discover my notes and look into my research. Not only would it uncover the dark scriptures that I consulted but the spells as spoken aloud by an unknowing could rip them apart together with the whole manor, though it would be possibly the best thing to do. Blow the whole place that was tainted by my presence, to hell. For hell is where I would much rather be.