the women of tierra del fuego, weak and settled into cattle. naked old women, useless and even weaker, eaten in bare times.
the primeval force of physical power combined with brains have ruled and played our planet for centuries. our planet, our symphony.
i’ve wronged myself and many
it’s a great debt
but what is wrong is the guilt
not the rent of it
not even my sentiment
here i lay, words and hands disposed
look at me – the penitent, eternally paying
sold cheap, as i serve my soul
my sole consciousness
to go on with short hopes
and long desires
at each dusk, each dawn
because of a guilt
that is not mine
“saying if i was free is like, like – if i had a hammer, for instance: so many things to built, so many people to kill!”
“you’re the one talking nonsense, blog. nobody is free, i know that! i’m just saying..”
“what’s your angle, anyways?”
“don’t interrupt me! i was gonna..”
“because, you know – very much airfat, all this talk.”
“for particle’s sake, man! shut it and listen! the high coun..”
“remember silly? now she’s a breeder, and nothing we can do about it because-we-are-not-free, got?”
i roll my eyes extensively, for more effect, and pause them on blog again. i had met him at the entropy_meet under_within, and we were both sent back to the flamboyant’s promenade: the particle was waiting for us at the entropy, it knew we’d come in at the same moment. after i safely opened my eyes at the promenade, i had to crisscross 2 flesh_flows to get to the meat_meet where blog was waiting for me with his bite_bit.
we are strolling leisurely, along with the third ration_bit crowd, towards the top of the hill, as the sun starts to set. we are following the yellow line and doing our best to avoid eye_contact with peasants and chimps, sharing blog’s lunch: half ba_nano and half breed_bread each, which is not enough for both of us but will have to do. i cannot take my ration out of my pocket, because it’d suck too much attention: abbees are impossible to be found in the city, only the cadre_inc has access to this tiny feed_rich fruit. and the wicked, of course.
“i mean, of course we gotta keep in mind our primary condition..”
i swallow my last ba_nano piece with this word: there’s no way to get a pessimist to understand any possible option out of a situation that nicely feeds his pessimisme. blog is our i_t in the city, but lately there’s been talk among the wicked of his growing detrition, a common malaise for undercover humans in azza. blog stares at the landscape, his sad eyes are now avoiding me: he knows, as much as i do, that his pessimism is corroding the force within, and that he’ll soon be transferred – in fact, he longs for that already.
“hey buddy, it’s almost time.”
we both look at the confound_compound, van zante’s cadre_inc palace. the last sun shoots orange rays onto the compound’s golden roofs, and we look away: the light is just too unbearable. the whole compound is shining like a gigantic toxic flower on top of the hill.
“airfat, golden airfat..”
13_bigger family, lucky
ailin looks at the night sky, a carpet of stars so gloriously gorgeous, then it comes, the sudden corky insight – she’s living her life upside down! which makes sense.. she follows the path of the skyways slowly and smiles: drew would have laughed at her yet-again corky-insight..
it’s cold. she tucks deeper in her flies_blnkt and writes:
drew, i have so much to say that i silence, and i say so much i should silence – i know these are endless contradictions, repetitions of oneself thinking themselves (i know, bad grammar correct arithmetics) thinking themselves unique consciousness – and i mean unconciousnesslessess – that’s language, my love, language: hi there, i’m here – contact!
i feel the real sad thing is the impossibility of contact, of communication, and the extreem forms of it, with death at the end of our conscious universe, our contact which forms the universe and its particles – life as in endless reproduction of a multi self? i digress because the only things i have now are those words, my love.
i’d written you another letter earlier telling you so many things about life and love, of course i lost it. then virgo had sent to me, i met her at the velvet stone and she told me about the glitch. of course we all knew about something – it has a title thus: glitch.
oh i so wish you’d be here with me now and always, not in a cold forest alone at night (like me) – but you love the stars, don’t you my star, my dear love? and the stars love you back.
i’m also on my way, i hate to tell you it’s difficult, today i’ve cried on public, in front of the :eye: – i know, i’m weak.. i’m sorry about that, i promise i’ll do better the next time etc, please do believe me. i’ve been weakened by the non-stop drain of energy, and yet – it’s so incredible how much of life’s still left!
ailin looks at the night sky, and there’s a silver glow stunning the landscape, everything is in silent prostration to the glory of itself all. she feels it, she belongs to it – earth is gripping her buttocks, thighs, calves, feet, it’s penetrating her –
12_damage extent of th
rabs saw the bearded man disappear under the triangular rock that moved, closing the subterranean passage. he touched the smooth umber rock surface, warm and soft, he could feel its quiet pulse – he never knew of the pulse, never knew of the fluid energy, of his in_role in it, anything to know at all, but now he knows even more.
he was tired already. he could see the wall 5 kms further down the valleybelly, but that was not jono’s belly – he still had 40 hrs to get to the great beltwalls. he thought of the id and felt his left lobe – there it was the new id_chip_rec, he won’t need to worry about control, or notes, or lose them nomore.
he found a thick bush of dark green velvet leaves, and lay down to sleep. the place felt cosy and safe, it had a scent that brought rabs into a real_dream in seconds. he looked around hunter sharp, the river was a bright and thick water cord on the trade winds of the sky – with creatures, boats, submarines travelling with_in it, around it, the strong current in many tones of clear blue. he recognised azzajono’s flag, that was it.
“rabs, boy – roger!”
rabs touched his right ear with a jump.
“yay duda, roger! me see da flag, roger!”
“good.. oh tha.. ok, wher..”
“rabs! have ..ou m.. xenia yet?”
“no just sky flag – wait i see da green lady, she comin’!”
rabs saw the same xenia from the comics they’ve shown him at the hangar, some weeks ago. this woman was 2 dimensional, an animation coming towards him, smiling deep red lips and black almond eyes. rabs started smelting like chocolate ice cream – no, rabs, no! he took hold of himself with his right arm and lifted his body. rabs must tape note. she came closer, facing his shyness directly with a twinkle in her eyes.
“yay you rabs?”
she brought her lips and landed a butterfly kiss on rabs mouth. the demi_human started to vibrate and give light, his eyes two holes on a red furnace. he woke up, alert, stood up in the green bush, and saw a cristal day through the thick leaves. he started walking towards azza. the kiss still vibrating in his mouth, now his throat, his heart, his air – and the message and particle rabs was now carrying had to be delivered to the autist.
he knew that – he knows even more now.
what rabs also knew already, xenia was what ninon had said – different. the others had different xenias too. he stopped at the outer fence of the beltwalls, amazed by his knowledge. there will be so much to know and to show. and he will see it again too, to know even more. that’s rabs’ mission: to know even more, now with the chip.
y_our neo_ primaeval folletín
1. newspaper serial; soap opera; TV serial; radio serial; serial gif
2. drama; saga