A DIGITAL CAMELOT - BY ALEX VOIGT
BASED ON CONCEPTS WRITTEN BY LARRY AND ANDY WACHOWSKI
I woke up this morning with a stomachache as usual. I always have stomachaches. Night and day, I feel them wrenching deep inside my belly. Yet, beyond that feeling, there is something else that I cannot see, nor, feel, or taste or touch.
It's not a very pleasant feeling. Not pleasant at all, feeling something and thinking- more like knowing, that it's something completely different.
"Probably digits," I think to myself. You know, zeroes and ones.
At least that's what my psychiatrist tells me. But you can never tell with these wacko shrinks. You try someone new and they mess you up if you pay enough attention. It's a vicious cycle, but it's humanity.
Damn humanity for keeping so many doors open.
But what do you do when you have so many options? You look, that's what you do. You look at all of the options and you decide which one is the most logical. After all, this age is based on logic. And as far as I can remember, it's always been so. Right or wrong, yes or no.
Zero or one.
The strange pain in my stomach grows as each day grows with it. I tell this to my shrink, "Dr. Two", as he likes to call himself. He tells me strange things. He tells me to feel the surfaces of everything I come in contact with.
Yet strangely enough, the more I touch these surfaces, the worse the pain gets. I tell this to Dr. Two, yet he tells me nothing. He just sits and stares at me.
It's almost as if he could see right through me.
The pain gets worse when I am at my computer as well. My eyes hurt in conjunction with my stomach. I see black rain running down my eyeballs. I lie down and close my eyes, only to think about zeroes and ones once again, and the rest of Dr. Two's ideas.
Then one day, I stare at my cat and it falls over, limp and dead, with its eyes resting on mine. The pain in my stomach gets worse, but it's not from the cat itself; it's from the cat's eyes. I feel a connection to its eyes. I stare and stare into the dead, lifeless balls of flesh.
I stare, and I realize that these eyes aren't eyes. They are zeroes and ones.
I feel a connection, a familiarity if you will, between my pain and that of the cat's. So, I pick up the cat and place it inside a trash bag, burying it in my backyard. I look up into the sky and my arms feel weak.
I try to think of the last time the sky was blue. Before I could come up with an answer, I threw up right there on the grass. Perhaps it was from the smell of the cat, or maybe I ate something rancid.
Or maybe I ate a two, instead of a zero or one.
-MORE COMING SOON-
BASED ON CONCEPTS WRITTEN BY LARRY AND ANDY WACHOWSKI
I woke up this morning with a stomachache as usual. I always have stomachaches. Night and day, I feel them wrenching deep inside my belly. Yet, beyond that feeling, there is something else that I cannot see, nor, feel, or taste or touch.
It's not a very pleasant feeling. Not pleasant at all, feeling something and thinking- more like knowing, that it's something completely different.
"Probably digits," I think to myself. You know, zeroes and ones.
At least that's what my psychiatrist tells me. But you can never tell with these wacko shrinks. You try someone new and they mess you up if you pay enough attention. It's a vicious cycle, but it's humanity.
Damn humanity for keeping so many doors open.
But what do you do when you have so many options? You look, that's what you do. You look at all of the options and you decide which one is the most logical. After all, this age is based on logic. And as far as I can remember, it's always been so. Right or wrong, yes or no.
Zero or one.
The strange pain in my stomach grows as each day grows with it. I tell this to my shrink, "Dr. Two", as he likes to call himself. He tells me strange things. He tells me to feel the surfaces of everything I come in contact with.
Yet strangely enough, the more I touch these surfaces, the worse the pain gets. I tell this to Dr. Two, yet he tells me nothing. He just sits and stares at me.
It's almost as if he could see right through me.
The pain gets worse when I am at my computer as well. My eyes hurt in conjunction with my stomach. I see black rain running down my eyeballs. I lie down and close my eyes, only to think about zeroes and ones once again, and the rest of Dr. Two's ideas.
Then one day, I stare at my cat and it falls over, limp and dead, with its eyes resting on mine. The pain in my stomach gets worse, but it's not from the cat itself; it's from the cat's eyes. I feel a connection to its eyes. I stare and stare into the dead, lifeless balls of flesh.
I stare, and I realize that these eyes aren't eyes. They are zeroes and ones.
I feel a connection, a familiarity if you will, between my pain and that of the cat's. So, I pick up the cat and place it inside a trash bag, burying it in my backyard. I look up into the sky and my arms feel weak.
I try to think of the last time the sky was blue. Before I could come up with an answer, I threw up right there on the grass. Perhaps it was from the smell of the cat, or maybe I ate something rancid.
Or maybe I ate a two, instead of a zero or one.
-MORE COMING SOON-