paranoia on the internet

...you're not what you are. you're what you say you are.

the need for explanation, self-justification, dredging up atomic indestructible details as you fling them against a silent blank wall of global consciousnss - is omnipresent. that insecurity never fades away.

we are here, purifying ourselves into brain vapours. why?

we are two lovers separated from each other by a firewall. we die of old age on either side of the brick, banging at cracks in the mortar. and pop music is like morphine.

I read what you wrote. It was good, real good.

how does that make you feel?

it's so subjective, self-publishing

when you tell a story, does anyone believe you?

when we see all these details we have in common, do we not keel over from the boredom? are there people out there who actually feel joy in fitting in?

in a few decades, when the whole world is finally connected (most people on earth still haven't made a telephone call) our formative intellectual experiences will be taking place on the internet. there will be no real world to act as a check or balance against imaginative fiction.

what then, will be real? where will our allegiances lie?

why should anyone believe a blogger profile or resume? why should anyone believe what they can't see? three times removed from 3-d reality. lies and embellishment. the burden of proof is on whom?


I'm just going to be what I am. I hope that's good enough. It was good enough for him, who is who is.

Wondering so close you can't even see. and if something sticks in you after turning this off then maybe I exist.

when the power goes out, we are alone alone alone. digital existence depends on a power source. 10 fingers on a keyboard. all life comes from the centre of the sun.

we want to live eternally. that means nothing can ever be allowed to be erased. memory grows like a crystal, we navigate it with this electricity. we will become its slaves - our entire life devoted to keeping memories alive. fewer and fewer new experiences will take place, the cost of each memory is far too traumatic. when the universe is pure crystallized memory there will be no more growth, no more change, we will freeze forever, longing lovers staring at each other in the perfect painting. art and life fused into the perfect crystal. oh, the horror.

for now,
we sacrifice civil liberties for collective security
because 'the public' no longer exists

all of this has been said before. A google elephant never forgets. the proof is in the cold hard cache. the universe was made out of pure information. let there be light.

in the future all innovations are instantly assimilated and the innovator is chewed up and spit out.

in a few years the thought police will be coming to get you
they will tell you
"this is for your own good"

"we've been watching you on the tapes"

actually, the truth is - "you've been watching yourself"

they don't have to throw anyone in jail - we're lining up in droves to confess, to turn ourselves in. each one of us walking around in a mental prison.

"we're glad you've come to your senses"

why, when faced with blank silence, do we feel like confessing something?

all binary digits are interchangeable

I can switch you off so easily

so -
don't ever be
an individual
on the internet.

ps as a final act of analysis, you should ask - as Holmes did - "what was his motive?"

unmoved mover
uncaused cause

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