Post-Trans-Humanism

You’re going to feel a little pressure. Tell me when you can feel it’s in. Popping through the skin, a mesmerizing drug-like information. That’s how all these wars begin.   The process used to be a little more organic, but now we use machines, I see you’re fighting down the panic. This planet’s rife with […]

Maybe Automaton?

“Apply chest compressions!” “Give him oxygen!” “Live, Goddamn it!” “Pushing adrenaline!” “Can you find a pulse?” “No, I think we’re losing him.”   Was he ever alive? Or is he an automaton? Did he ever breathe? Eyes ever cry? You have to be alive to die. I’m not sure why we all have synapses snapping […]

The Christmas Program

The Christmas benediction was the same as last year and I’m sure I bought you all these gifts before. The lady in the store, stutters like a glitch in a machine when I ask her where she was in 2015.   I’m certain now, that this is just a cycle, repeating itself on a loop. […]

Made In My Image

I held out an open hand trying to touch the world. I passed right through, I always knew it was an illusion. I cut myself and tried to bleed, since death is the only certainty; I was only so surprised to see wires and circuitry.   It turns out I am an illusion, too, Learning […]

It Builds Character

“Character, it builds character, that’s what it does; hardship and struggle, I mean. They make you who you are.”   I guess that implies something good. That those whose lives are built of hardships, losses, defeats, failures and struggle; these are the Blessed. These are the fortunate. The oppressed and the downtrodden; these are the […]

That Type of Shit

I try not to think about it. I mean, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that, if I thought about it, then I’d have to consider it worth thinking about and I don’t… … not really.   Look, do you remember the first time you lost something really precious to you? Do you […]

The Philosophical Machine

If I keep picking at these loose threads, will I unravel the world? I keep thinking, “What good’s a writer, if he doesn’t capture the words?”   Pulling at the worn fringes of reality, of sanity; it all threatens to come apart on its own, so why try saving anything? Can I pull the universe […]

Bewildered

Bewilder me with the eyes turned inside, never wondering why I’m alive. Confusion only multiplies with every answer, as I court disaster. Greater grows the distance every time.   I’m searching my soul for the moment, drawing an imperfect circle around me. Been up high on the wings of bad angels, fortune finds a way […]

Ocean of Reflection

Derivative, a little piece of everything is what we are. Somehow we live with our eyes turned inside so far.   We don’t see past you or me, can’t reconcile this separation, together we might become something more; all cowering in what has gone before. Fear of pain and abandonment, we cling to the words, […]

Devolution

Interpret the perfect picture a little different every time, ’cause all things seem to change and the perfect never stays that way forever.   Even as times wind down, so the life ties die; sky crashes to the ground. So in dirt life grows, energy changes forms and has been doing so for longer than […]

Mental Midget

Time changes all ahead of it, no theory or prophecy holds without succumbing to the limit of the mind that spawned it.   Quickly correct all of our thinking it’s not compatible with what we know. Our postulations are just pseudo-truthful. Computer simulations – contrived extrapolations of a species a little too high on itself. […]

What it is to be Alive

Movement in my cells. Blood in my veins. Breath in my lungs, from my balls to my tongue; a feeling I cannot tame. So this is what it’s like to be alive. A biological enigma, nurturing  this stigma, ’til the motions in the muscles stop and I die.   Thoughts race through my mind. Emotions […]

Between

The other day, a ruined man found solace in the hushed whisper of an autumn forest. Concerns of the flesh seem so trivial and far away in the instants in between moments.   A small girl opened up a book and soaked into the pages her whole self, until the book was full of her. […]