Well. I've died before. For a little over 2 minutes. My heart stopped. Obviously being stopped for two minutes isn't REALLY dying. You can get brain damage fast, but doesn't it take like 10 minutes or something for your brain to completely stop when deprived? I dunno, something like that. Point is, if you die for two minutes, you're not REALLY dead. But during this time, I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I felt nothing. I didn't exist. It was exactly like waking up from a dreamless sleep. I walked into the Walk In, told them I was very sick, they took me back and ran some really fast blood tests, said 'Oh my gosh, you are a very, very sick girl' and then everything went dark while I sat in the chair. About 12 hours later, I woke up in really nice hospital room, IV in my arm, completely naked except a front gown, and no memories of what transpired after or even slightly before everything goes black. The same thing happened when I got black out drunk, except I remember being unable to stand and giggling like a crazy loon before my memory just cuts off.
So I guess I feel like I 'know' it's that. Just. Nothing. You sleep and don't wake up. Chemically it makes sense. If the brain is just a series of incredibly fast decisions based on reward systems and prior knowledge that we're not even conscious of most of the time, then 'we' don't really exist. We're just some sort of super advanced algorithm. Obviously this can't really be proven, and I guess it ultimately depends on whether or not you believe you have free will or the law of hard determinism.
But, if I'm wrong and we are... something. Anything. Then... I think its probably like when you get really wasted on DXM? Once you reach a high enough peak, you kind of... shut down in a weird way. It's hard to explain, but you feel... like you don't feel. If that makes sense. It makes your mind disconnect almost entirely with your body because its a disassociative. You can still move it and feel it, but its not yours. Your mind feels like it keeps expanding, past the barriers of your skull, and outwards further still, until its spread so thin that it's quiet in a way that is completely unnatural, sort of like Squidward being in that white space in the future episode. No echo though. You just. You think, but there's nothing. No chatter, no music, no... color or abstractions or ideas. It's like being in a padded cell or a hospital room that's completely cut off from anything outside. It's the most absolute peace I've ever felt, like I was sinking so slowly into a bed of stars. I wasn't happy or sad or angry or... empty or numb. I simply was. Everything was super foggy, but so clear. It felt like everything made sense, problems were absolutely nothing. Outwardly, I was like a robot. My body jerked, and it was slower to process but consistent in its movements and speech patterns. I adopted strange vocabulary because it just felt... a lot clearer to use very descriptive and apt words instead of my normal rabble of like ellipses and 'you know?s' and whatever generic words I use to fail to describe something in enough detail.
If the consciousness can be pulled from the body to be something ethereal and permanent, I don't think it can, but IF it can, I picture it like that. You simply are, and probably rather than talk, you like... flash in binary to communicate? If you're a glowing ball of something? With other glowing balls that are also just existing? I dunno. Honestly, that sounds pretty lame, despite the experience being one heck of a thing to, well, experience. Again, pretty sure its just black tho.