I still probably abide by the Matrix theory. We are in a simulation. I imagine, ideally, we are being controlled by an alien race. If I can see what they look like before I die, I will be satisfied.
2.19.17
An immense inhalation
is all it takes to remind myself
that I am here.
Otherwise, I forget the obligations
of being flesh and blood, of having
not one consciousness but two.
While one remembers, the other forgets. While
one erases and annihilates and destroys, the other
enters the dreams of a thousand restless souls
who themselves are lost and desperate
for guidance. I’ve learned this: it’s not that
I want my life to be different; being someone else,
anyone else, is enough for me.
Get me away from myself
and I’ll be fine.
Written at 12:39 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA, while listening to the steady ticking of a newly purchased wall clock. It is round and black and cost five dollars from Target.