The death of a moon cowboy

I am a somewhat-youth with ideas and thoughts and too many dreams that sometimes overflow as these little dribblings from my fingertips. I guess you can try to collect and capture them.


Friday, June 03, 2005

Re-experiencing the mind of man

My brain emits a wavelength of energy that is similar to most minds, but has a syndication all its own. It is these slight idiosyncrasies and nuances that make my energy detectable and unique, something to pick out from amongst the daily barrage of mind-energy flows. A simulation/recording device is nearby, set to record the patterns of my brain as input and output signals that are sensory-based.

The result is simulated memory. To re-experience something that has occurred in my life since the introduction of memory recording technology, I need only access the archived raw data, reverse the device's signal to feed, set myself in a pillowed, spacious, danger-free zone, and ignite the fake dream. Once the set memory length has been exhausted, my mind is returned to its current and actual surroundings; it is returned to true existence.

In this manner, memories never entirely fade, they cannot become corrupted with incorrect data or fabrication, details are permanently etched into existence, and the barriers between reality, dream, time and space are confused. This is the future of life. This changes the inherent human nature to age and not-so-gracefully forget, to hit that downward arc of seniority where lifeblood is watered down and the night becomes longer than the day. Where we live to sleep and eat and lament. This fits beautifully with the Hollywood-view of youth and life and vigor and desire and contentedness; that American dream to resent hair, skin, eyes, keratin, lipids, difference, indifference. We want to be like you. I don't want to be like me.

A life composed of memories. I will eventually be re-experiencing the re-experiencing. And the cycle ensues. Soon all new life will lose its meaning and will be led soley through the experiencing of memories of ancient and passed individuals. We are not different. We are each other. Your mind is my mind. It begins now.

2 comments:

Reluctant Conquistador said...

matthew,

when are we going to be able to read your next post. i like you.

-michael

Anonymous said...

My feelings exactly...