The Time Now 1.10.4

Forge Of AI

Storyteller the Time Now

Forge Of AI

spoken word, experimental, cinematic

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You dread your memories. 
You're better off without them.

And as you focus on the pulsating pain in your body, 
you catch yourself enjoying it.

It's been a while since you were 
last engrossed at the moment, 
since you really felt something at all. 
But enjoying the pain is disgusting, 
so you force yourself to get up 
to make your pain worse, 
unbearable, 
intolerable, 
unforgivable.

You drag your feet on the floor, 
and your toes tingle, 
and your skin crawls.

You lean against the glass wall 
and walk along the pane; 
the shower sounds just the same, 
you are alone and forsaken, 
and you drag your bloody hand across the glazing.

Where exactly are you inside the Glass Dome?

Where is the West, the moving wall, 
the open gate to freedom?

And just as you wonder, 
the glass wall starts gliding down all around you, 
and the glazed dome floats above you as above the clouds, 
and fog comes tumbling in.

You are literally in the sky!

There was a time when people 
dreamt of Heaven and Angels, 
of good and evil, and a just reward in the afterlife.

But that was just a foolish dream.

And, after all, if this were heaven 
and they were the Lord 
and you were an angel of death and mercy… 
well then… 
who would need such a haven, 
such a timeless reward?

You close your eyes, engulfed by the mist 
that is so fine it feels like a breath of water.

You breathe it in with thirst. 
You wish you could be a cloud, 
a pale of wind, 
a shimmer on the water’s surface. 
Ephemeral. 
And free.

You stumble forward.

When you look around all you can see anymore 
is a disc of light at your feet, 
and all you can hear is the water running from the shower.

No waves crashing against the rocks. 
No seagulls shrieking. 
No wind howling between the towers.

And you are shivering and dripping with cold sweat.

What if you moved a little closer to the edge?

Would they let you jump?

Would they let you die?

Or is it all just a trick again?

Where's Abba?

You drag your feet closer to the edge, 
and the disk of light at your feet cuts in half. 
There's nothing holding you back. 
You can make it all stop, all go away, 
demons and ghosts and Lordarchs and kinnays. 
The pain throbbing and writhing in your heart.

You tense your body. 
You hold your breath.

Then you hear Abba talking from behind you, 
their breath brushing against the back of your head. 
You shudder.

"We promised you free choice. What will you do?"

You ache from the core of your being. 
You long for them. 
You wish they would take you in their arms. 
Save your life. 
Keep you safe. 
Love you.

Another foolish dream—for a vessel for sin.

You gasp and close your eyes. 
Burning tears roll down your cheeks.

You hold your breath and slide your feet 
near the edge of the floor.

It's funny how this makes you feel. 
As if you're out on the stairs again 
and out of your body, 
and you just have to discard this lump of flesh 
that’s holding you back and be free…

Come—
freedom whispers from within.

And you take a step.

3031/7500

You dread your memories. You're better off without them. And as you focus on the pulsating pain in your body, you catch yourself enjoying it. It's been a while since you were last engrossed at the moment, since you really felt something at all. But enjoying the pain is disgusting, so you force yourself to get up to make your pain worse, unbearable, intolerable, unforgivable. You drag your feet on the floor, and your toes tingle, and your skin crawls. You lean against the glass wall and walk along the pane; the shower sounds just the same, you are alone and forsaken, and you drag your bloody hand across the glazing. Where exactly are you inside the Glass Dome? Where is the West, the moving wall, the open gate to freedom? And just as you wonder, the glass wall starts gliding down all around you, and the glazed dome floats above you as above the clouds, and fog comes tumbling in. You are literally in the sky! There was a time when people dreamt of Heaven and Angels, of good and evil, and a just reward in the afterlife. But that was just a foolish dream. And, after all, if this were heaven and they were the Lord and you were an angel of death and mercy… well then… who would need such a haven, such a timeless reward? You close your eyes, engulfed by the mist that is so fine it feels like a breath of water. You breathe it in with thirst. You wish you could be a cloud, a pale of wind, a shimmer on the water’s surface. Ephemeral. And free. You stumble forward. When you look around all you can see anymore is a disc of light at your feet, and all you can hear is the water running from the shower. No waves crashing against the rocks. No seagulls shrieking. No wind howling between the towers. And you are shivering and dripping with cold sweat. What if you moved a little closer to the edge? Would they let you jump? Would they let you die? Or is it all just a trick again? Where's Abba? You drag your feet closer to the edge, and the disk of light at your feet cuts in half. There's nothing holding you back. You can make it all stop, all go away, demons and ghosts and Lordarchs and kinnays. The pain throbbing and writhing in your heart. You tense your body. You hold your breath. Then you hear Abba talking from behind you, their breath brushing against the back of your head. You shudder. "We promised you free choice. What will you do?" You ache from the core of your being. You long for them. You wish they would take you in their arms. Save your life. Keep you safe. Love you. Another foolish dream—for a vessel for sin. You gasp and close your eyes. Burning tears roll down your cheeks. You hold your breath and slide your feet near the edge of the floor. It's funny how this makes you feel. As if you're out on the stairs again and out of your body, and you just have to discard this lump of flesh that’s holding you back and be free… Come— freedom whispers from within. And you take a step.

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