Currently writing chapter 2.
Prologue
Journal Entry 15: Kaleb (11:51 A.M.) 4/13/2034
It all started with the roads. The connectivity of beings and that constant rush we always seem to be in. More and more the laborers were asked but the rapid structures and reconstructions of temporary roads did not add any benefit to time saving. It only prepared us for the inevitable. The destruction of self. We could rise later and waste longer. We could produce, reproduce and co-produce. No one was ready for the future and hopefully this wasn't our answer for it. The physical structures that stamped our races pride and top-of-the-food-chain mentality. We won, or so we think. The more we build, the less we can sustain in the ever fading twilight of the future. Our next generation, ever-growing, ever producing will have to either shove their feet in the sand or start trampling the reasons we are here. Soon they are going to have to forget about one tense. Obviously the present is ominous and greedy. The past is charming but ill-important. You can only learn so much and hold so much knowledge. And the future, the reason we pro-create ceases to exist. Why plan when we can spend? Why prioritize when we could live ignorantly blind? If only the Mockingbird could bring them shame.
Journal Entry 12: Sarah (2:04 P.M.) 4/13/2034
Who’s to say what they are all doing is wrong and we are the right ones? A little common sense and intelligence might go a long way but money seems to travel farther and at faster speeds then what could be possibly right. Kaleb and I had a strenuous day on the "farm" today. You wouldn't believe what these plants tell me. They ache and it feels like I am their only carrier. If only we could paint the bigger picture. Since we have one of the small plots of land in the county that is suitable for any type of agricultural growth, we must put our ideas and big heads aside and support our community. Since technology has taken its final stretch into winning the hearts of pocket dwellers, we need to fend for the under-privileged. We don't ask for much, except isolation and peacefulness but what we get in return is rudeness and immaturity. The kind that plagues your dreams and turns life, our well-being, into an in despicable nightmare. It’s hard to call this home, when we slave for uselessness beings I call my friends. Kaleb and I have taken the approach to relieve our constant building of stress into writing in our personal journals, comparing, contrasting and even editing. I guess its fun but sometimes it hardly gets the job done. It is like drawing in between the lines, hardly noticeable by the naked eye but oh so important for the artist.
Journal Entry 18: Kaleb (3:17 A.M.) 4/20/2034
It is rather hard to fall asleep to the whistles of the ecosystems. The coughs and hiccups, the sneezes and the sighs. It's hardly the fear of the outdoors but what makes it terrifying is the thrill of adventure. Leaving and never coming back. I really believe if I left this place for more than an hour, I wouldn't mentally be able to come back. It's not that I would forget the routes back but I would try to forget them and resume into the freedom. I rather live a day as a deer than a lifetime as a human. Pressure, goals, dreams and years stacked upon years. Survival of the fittest seems quite inverted. I rather not survive and be eaten then be doing the harmful gnawing on innocent bones. Objects aren't getting updates like they used to anymore. They are constantly updated, new, and fresh. It’s nice until you realize the effects it has on your soul. No more searching for that something that no one has, but soon will. Being the first for something. It’s hard for those letters to even come out of my pen to finish that last sentence. Now it’s the cool thing to be the last. It’s the righteous thing. To stand up. To revolt. To stand out. To end up dyeing for your silent whispers that end up reaching an outstretched ear.
Journal Entry 15: Sarah (12:12 P.M.) 4/21/2034
Now this is the start of the end. Or is it? The tech-savvy or what us environmentalists like to call the anti-christ has yet again scratched the giant back of the 2 headed cats we all know as the Government. The one who took away our sovereignty and labeled themselves as the Sovernment. It’s quite hypocritical but the harsh reality is that it’s nothing but the truth. And sometimes the truth hurts worse than bullets. The Oculus Corporation has finally arrived with their product of choice that us tax payers have been waiting for. Billions of dollars of research has finally come through! As you might presume, I am sarcastically enthusiastic over this approach. Kaleb also responded to the news the same way as the slim minority. The majority have been lining up like the cattle we so desperately want to be. Waiting for ours. Implants have not changed in the last 40 years. Too many absent minded folk trying to fit in with the rest of the world. The chain continues into infinatum
Journal Entry 19: Kaleb (4:15 p.m.) 5/04/2034
Don't think the temptations didn't linger. Even a sliver could bring down the most prized commanders. Fitting in, conformity in this complex state we call humanity. Sometimes a sense of purpose can change a person’s desires and goals. Even their dreams. Constantly analyzing the news and second hand experiences with the Occulum. Observing and steadily studying could be said to be my most fond of hobbies. Or just realizing. It’s quite odd but humorous how the news report hype up something that is beyond a miracle. Anyone that isn't blind to the facts could have seen this happen. The world is in ruins, despair. There is hardly an economical gap anymore. No bridges are in place anymore. Either you our one or the other. Desperately poor or devastatingly rich. The rich control and the poor seek. Not only are there economical gaps but these trends also lead to social segregations. You can just determine this by the location. By the location of the mind. The wealthy is trim, implanted, and perfect. Perfect to the standards that are laid out by our founding fathers. The ones that is entirely free. Then there is us. A lusting breed of goal setters and dream settlers. None of us make it by the guidelines we were promised. We aren't even paid. They take and receive while we are evaporated into the clouds. Success is a luxury. The graphs never lie. Everyone is tired of living on luck and change. No one gives a fuck anymore. We are just animals, remember? When did we design a purpose? We try to be individuals but why don't we just unite. This separation has killed millions on both sides. The struggle of living under the hammer of social ties. It’s not deontological, life is random. The only luck we have even exists and some even find a way to kill that off. Faith is biased and frigid. It leaves you in a constant state of cold and searching for the answer that people answered thousands of years ago. The only thing that is absolute is death.
Journal Entry 27: Sarah (10:27 P.M.) 5/19/2034
Kaleb and I are not on speaking terms. His egotistical side has taken the better sides of both of us. He will not lay off my case on keeping the community thriving while there is a bigger plan in the works. Sometimes I just don't know with him. His views, his personal perspective can be a blessing in disguise and car wreck in the same sentence. He is so profound in his work but I believe we need to better the structure around us before we can even tackle anything bigger. Kaleb thinks the world revolves around him. He believes no matter what road, what destiny we shall take we will overcome and obstacle. It might sound courageous, adventurous and a little like paradise but knowing him for a better part of a decade gives me the ability to wade through his nonsensical bullshit. The world is going through profound adjustments and he wants to act up. As the days get longer and the sleep gets pushed back until exhaustion, it makes it susceptible to stand by his side. We followed the same paths to this point but it seems like there is a split. One way is a shortcut but looks dangerous, muddy and un-settling and the other way is the same path we have been on for our entire lives. All this technology, these new tools to obtain information when we don't even know how to use it. It all seems to be a curse. It haunts us but lures us in. A few of us can see the trap, Kaleb and I have been experts in this territory. But he believes if we take on this situation guns ablazing and get our hands on this Occulum we could make some sort of difference. He has always wanted to lead revolt and be victorious in his beliefs. That is where i let the curtains to be raised so i can take my bow. I never thought we should take our beliefs and pass them down, generation to generation. Religion has already done that and look how that has turned out. Confusion and mass murders. Wars have been started over radical beliefs and I'm not ready to have that on my fragile conscious. I ‘am not willing to have Kaleb bring me down anymore, I can’t settle and gradually sink. I am completely fine where I am now and I’m not willing to drastically change my ways for some massive scheme. I just don't have it in me.
Journal Entry 20: Kaleb (2:04) 5/15/34
I am on my way to the path of the forgotten. It has been too long to even remember through the high grass and the cobwebs. But I continue on, not even brushing the remembrance away. Just embracing it while i re-model the trenches. The light still reaches me through the canopies as if it was its duty. As if it was the trees job to project this woven light in my direction. I haven't been this happy in a long time. I haven't felt this sense of freedom since forever. No more security, no more laws to abide. Rituals and habitual seemed to plague my before life. It’s hard to remember since it was so contrary. It was a painful belief that somehow I thought I could uphold. It’s not like I am some sort of fortress made of un-breakable stone. I am a teepee, ready to blow down at any moment, not willing to keep a steady composure at any given time. So un-me. I'm willing to preach, to lead and to scrutinize the compliance. Where would robin hood be if he sat in his prison? The poor never got to change because it was all a fairy tale. A dream that’s written down to fantasize being in a lower class for these rich elites. An idea that has never been put into action. The thought can be brought up but the decisions can never be put in place. The strategies and the complete possibilities. Trust comes into play when the theory is brought to other participants. And the only time the minority has been so knocked down, beaten up and suffocated is right now. The low is at their lowest and the highest are on a pedestal. It’s time to find an Occulum. Locate the art of discovery. Deep inside our cerebrums we can overcome the impossible. If I get a hold of the object that has enslaved the world with a one handed shackled. There is no force to say no since the force has been strangling the voices for too long and they all forgot to speak. If we can find out the capabilities of this technology, we could overrule them. Finally put them in stalemate where they will force to resign. Let us return to out previous state of existence. As one, as a group, as a whole. Humanity needs to stop ignoring our balance with Mother Nature. We shouldn't be worrying about the impurities and all the instabilities but we should be considering the harmony and all our empathies.
Journal Entry 30: Sarah (7:32 A.M.) 5/25/34
I arose, nearly an hour ago waiting for him. To apologize about his selfishness lately. His lack of being and his harsh attitude. What I found instead was abandonment. A relationship that ended without a hello or a goodbye. We were perfect together. Practically the same. Now it all ends in absence. There was no definite start but in a blink of an eye, a step in an ant, there is a finish. I wouldn't call this an end since no one can predict the future but there is no point running after him. He wouldn't expect it so he wouldn't even slow down for the chase. He can hardly love anymore. The only time he loves me anymore is in his dreams. Reality is to un-predictable for us. He wants to explain the nature of it while i want to let the waves of the un-explained sweep me from my feet and bring me back to shore. Back to our own paradise. Free of conformities and full of ourselves. Who we really are, what we once were and who we will become. I thrive for that destination while Kaleb strives to swim against the currents. To reach that island of truth and to take it back. To win truth and free it. But what will he do with me? He interrupted my life, turned it sideways and opened me. Now that my life has completely changed for the neutral, i seemed to be un-wanted. Love is a hard thing to explain. It changed in all circumstances. There is no definite definition for any word but love seems to be the trickiness. Does it come down to the familiarity in the word? People expect to hear it but it’s hardly ever appropriate. It is an emotion, something someone must feel. Just like we can't be happy all the time, we cannot love at all times. Even if you actually believe so. It’s hard to say it but i wonder when Kaleb ever found the time to love me. He was too busy. He over-worked himself and I the same. Too many expectations to fill the air and the space between us. We were perfect for each other but the pieces fit to well. No boundaries and we were ultimately stuck until something could pull us apart. And that was the truth.
Journal Entry 21: Kaleb (4:18 P.M) 6/07/34
I GOT IT! The expedition finally concluded. I went into the sovernmental facility and obtained one. Legally, too. Before the itinerary even begins, we must all have our tracks covered. I am not trying to be a thief here but i will do anything to end this all in the right way. Now that my eyes are on the prize and I finally have it in arms reach, its more luring that expected. Temptations speak louder than words. But, just like any technology, there will be improvements. The first edition is trustworthy. It still has bugs, gaps and holes ready to be filled. Even though the updates are ominous, our advancements will shine over theirs. We will fully comprehend the Occulum and its sacredness. Utilize it for ways no one could have imagined. This is obviously the biggest breakthrough since the computer and no one knows what will come next. Before the future can lay its path, we must reset the route. Direct it into the new future. Take our universe we once knew and flip it so it can become the parallel we always dreamed of. Its time to find the rest of me's. The bandwagon, ready to take charge and cement our work into the history of time. I have never looked back from this point and i wouldn't dare to do it now. It's too late. Soon, through a fortuitous manner, Limbo will be all of ours. Fresh for the picking as equals. When the ideologies set in and the aggravated elites realize the troublesome we all had, they will finally listen and hopefully obey. I can't make them but i can try to understand them. Do we have any biological differences or is tabula rasa really the bigger picture. Maybe Nature doesn't mean shit when Nurture is the culprit. But it’s time to head out, to find the other team members and embark on our discoveries. Just a few more days until i reach Terminal Zero.
Chapter 1: The Determination
I arose from the train in the most un-comfortable position i could of imagined. It's hard to sleep when you have to cram a rather slender, average trans-american into a cardboard box that is passed capacity. The trains were hit the hardest during these few years. Lurkers, the train dwellers. They made enough money through the years to pay for a their ticket daily. But thats it. They are ghosts. Deteriorating but you would know that just by looking at these conditions. Creaks every train tie you race by, holding on for dear death. The sight depresses the pupils with mundane wicker whites, since all the metal has been chipped off for the National Treasury. All major, but under-abundant, elements have been on a strict halt. Public service announcements have been chiming to get trade on your precious metals. The deal might seem great on paper, Free money. But the idea behind a dollar is an illusion anyways. So a free illusion? I can get that, payable by my own mind. But leaving the train was the worst part. It almost made me feel welcomed and thanked me for taking it.
The cracks in the subway station made me feel uneasy as if it had something to say about all of mankind. Cracked but an easy fix. But, nevertheless, a fix no one has time for. We rather just walk past them with superstitions on hold, just incase bad luck presumes our entire day. Hey, at least we can blame it on a crack. Judging by the looks of the subway stations, no one has worked these booths for centuries. Mold and fungus has built up throughout the chairs interior leaving the exterior a bulging brown. The stench burns the nose and enters the throat with a cheap-whiskey flavor. The aroma can burn the eyes if the visitor is to stupid to not entertain the fight or flight instinct. And if anyone is wondering, i got the fuck out of there.
While rushing from the entrance-way to the subway, a purposeful light singed my skin. All the darkness that surrounds 95% of the rest of world and vanishes when you reach the epicenters of our society. The never-ending cities. A fantasy for some and for the rest its a put you to sleep fairy tale. It is hard to fathom the last time i have heard of such a place. No one likes to talk about cities because after mentioning one, it leaves a harsh taste in your mouth. The taste of defeat and hopelessness. The divide between the spectrum of rich and poor couldn't be so obvious. Taking that first step was like punching through a brick wall. If the subway stations were where the ghosts resigned, the cities is where the shadows held their ground. Grimy, run down, and shattered dreams. Over-population that just pushed and shoved until all the glass was broken and all our goals in life were finally achieved. Then the rest were resided in purgatory.
Then the city. Completely vacant from my visions. A journeymans idea. First developed to make trade and commerce easier and efficient. Contrary to that belief, cities have imploded onto themselves. The citizens don't leave, they hardly get up. Their is no reason to move if everything you ever needed or wanted was already there. No one ever likes taking the long ways. That is why we design short cuts. We thrive to find the fastest path. To our destinations, to success and even to our demise. These people make me sick. The skyscrapers emerging from my azimuth. Practically knocking me down from their strength while the lights seem surreal. As if i was staring some monster in the face and he easily had the higher ground. I never have the upperhand. It comes with the territory. So i bolt. I do not look up, no matter the temptations or the force that keeps tilting my head. Window panes glare in my direction, as if the refractions of the suns light was on a mission. To get me to look up. But i ignore all signs of life, even if silence was golden, i' am still running. I get the motions of my limbs down to a synchronization. Tip of my toes hit concrete, let foot gently press down then instantly pick up, repeat with right leg. Straighten back and bend arms at 45 degree angles and sway with the speed. Work with the wind rather than ignoring it. But as time flies, constantly weaving through alleys and stranded street corners my mind pauses. The flow of our dimension quickly freezes and i view everything around me. Just wondering. Intelligence is not a positive way of life. Being intelligence just makes the world around us seem terrible. Knowing that the world only revolves for money and power. Success only comes from stealing ideas and trampling the creators. We have intelligent idealists and realists. That is what separates me and Sara. I am an idealist. I can see reality, know the way it works and strives off the un-earned. The grasshopper always steals from the ant. Some call it bullying but in our society, it's called success. Realists sit and cry, whine and know the difference between fame and fortune and social heirachy torture. But they will never change a damn thing. To much in life is dependent on chance. A flick of a dice, some absurd dice that the majority of us call god. If god really cared, wouldn't we all be equal? But if we were all equal where would leaders fit in? They wouldn't and we can never be equal. We are born in our current statuses and that same dice we flicked a few sentences ago is then flicked again, and again...down an endless staircase. If it lands, we count the numbers and carry on. The possibility of taking the life you were born into and actually changing it is getting slimmer and slimmer throughout humanities generations. How can you be born rich and become poor? Bad decisions. But what if you just sit on the money and become a ghost? You stay rich and so does your children. Decisions are the only thing that keeps us from changing our social stati. And people can obviously hold onto decisions. Safety is always an option.
But as time started to flicker around me, it finally just went black. I remember waking up to a group of normals and averages. They said they were city dwellers. They hid from the socialites but kept a presence in the streets. They helped me re-gain consciousness after my panic attack and actually let me talk to them. None of them contributed to the occulum and all of them were against it. It was a stroke of luck that everyone needed once in a while. I call it random chances, that seem great and omniscent but only because your all ready in the gutter. Some call these occurrences acts of god and refer to the randomness as faith. Everyone has their own outlooks on life and death.
The group consists of 2. Riley, which the gentlemen that found me. He has a full beard and wears clothes that obviously came from a salvation army. But he wears his clothes with specific style that resembles Frank Sinatra. A swagger that surrounds him like an aura. His hair is a shaggy wicker white which tells me he has a distinct trait to a Nordic bloodline. In any other generation of the world Riley would of lived as a king but since titles got smaller and the power of the economy got stronger, some reigning dynasties needed to fall. The other member was Jacque. A whisperer. One of the few remaining intelligent beings hat didn't contrive to the rich. They knew they would of been treated like slaves and anyone with the right mind rather live free and poor rather than be labeled rich and then live in a cage. He keeps to himself but knows his way around any electrical gadget and when he gets caught up on the subject, he can move his lips 50 times a second spouting out techno-babble. We now have lust, gluttony and vengeance on our sides and I'm ready to get started.
But I'm still laying in my bed wondering if i was ready. If i had the audacity to send someone to an obvious death. I would be an advocate on the death of a human life and sometimes my conscious gets to me. Unlike some beings, i could never shove it down and forget about it. I used to wake up in the middle of the night with abdominal pains just revelating about my mistakes and shortcomings. Loss never really has shaken me up but it has. Quite recently too. But i finally sell myself that everything will be okay. And i somehow out-act my heart to believe in it. Sometimes our minds can tell us to do something that we know we would never do. It's how most of us fall into addictions. We all love to hide from the agonizing truth so we can live our lives. It's all about being human.
I shift to the un-used side of my bed and all my comfortably runs out. My saliva starts filling in the back of my throat and starts to fade into my mouth as if i was about to throw up. I sit up and release the 3 ply sheets from my tense grip and the frigidness of the calm air cools my bodies tension. I put on my pants and a plain black pocket t-shirt and gasp for more air. Then i stand up, the bed lets out a outrageous creak as if i have been the only inhabitant in it for years and its telling me "Thank You." The weariness pours to my feet and i can hardly walk. But as i lay my eyes onto the un-lit room next to mine and shift my weight so my next step can be profound i catch a glimpse of Riley and Jacque watching me. That is always when the paranoia sets in. Have they been listening to me talking to myself about my plans. I tend to do that. Or have they just looked up after a game of risk when they heard the noises of my bed. I will never know until i stop staring at their eyes...
The Initiative Part 1
Those days are far behind me. The house has been abandoned like i have been because the treachery was to much to bear. All items that remind me of my past have been smashed, tore, ripped into tiny pieces. I sprinkled them like ash around my territory, circularly around me in our bedroom and struck a match. The flame reached his clothes and carried throughout our picture frames and then to the drapes that we picked out together. The fire engulfed me in a circular pattern. Rising above me and over me as if i was in a force field. After the form fitted around me, i took one deep breath and held it in. i then carefully stepped out of my orb and re-traced my footsteps of yesterday to the front yard. Then immediately ran to the forest where i last saw Kale. I am not on manhunt or trying to find him because i know where he is now is were he wants to be. You can't change a direction of a line and the same goes for a mans dreams. Life used to make sense but now i feel if insanity has crept in. Insomnia has definitely trapped me. Every time i close my eyes it feels like i have developed a case of vertigo. When darkness surrounds you, the loneliness sinks in and your security has finally left you to survive on your own.
Finding the path i used to take every morning was trouble-some in the dark. Since you can't use your most keen sense of sight, you have to remember the feel of it all. It was actually easier to close my eyes and pretend to be blind. Letting my other 4 senses finally take over and lead me through the passages of dense forestry. The breaks in deadwood scattered beneath the dead leaves. Innocent weeps when winter slowly presses in. Death, Decay and Re-birth all in a matter of years. Only time can tell. Sometimes branches and tree limbs get intertwined around my clothes and pulls me down and i have to delay my travels to find my way out. As soon as I walked off my path, I instantly got lost. No more routines, no more planning and being ahead of task. All is lost and it is time for some sort of major change. In the world and in me.
A half an hour into walking the abyss of shadows and retrospect, i lose my balance and trip over something. I don't know if it was a branch, an animal, vines or a foot. The apprehension followed me all the way to the pile of firewood. I thought i hit my head hard enough to be knocked unconscious but i guess not. The pain trembled and the fright started picking away from my knees and started working on the rest of my joints. Knowing that i was alone...forever, i still had 3 more hours until sunlight and paralysis set in mid-fumble. When people ask if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise...just answer yes. It doesn't just make a noise but an explosion. It does more than strike the ear but it trembles the body and makes your pupils roll around. Its inspiring and dislimning. I would of ran for the nearest peaceful destination but the sound was addicting and the absence of feeling other than enjoyment has left my cerebral. Only if I entered the Occulum program, this would all feel like a blank state to me. Once the technology enters into all of reality and casts it slim filter towards every facet of our lives is when our lives become obsolete and the fittest. We are currently winning the "war" and thus keeping pushing all other organisms into a state of surrender. Humans are about territory and entertainment. If your deemed wrong, your carefully labeled endangered. If you stand up and ask why, your get slaughtered and branded extinct. We like to discuss the idea of being free, the responsibilities of freedom and our "rights" but what about other earth-dwellers rights? Isn't it all an hypocrisy when we invade our wilderness and start looking for answers. Answers for us but no solutions for the entire scheme of things.
After convulsing for air for the first few seconds of re-consciousness, i realized the sanctity of my un-touched void has relapsed. I finally can move but what is the point after so many years of it. Staying active, being busy and waking up to early. Sometimes even earlier than the birds just for fate. For a joking purpose...to be wanted. To be the nurturer to our forgetful and abandoned lives. To step in the shoes of the un-employed Mother Nature but i was a peasant jumping into a kings palace. And then i stand up, turn a complete 360 degrees and realize i have no clue which direction i was heading to. So i figure faith hasn't helped me yet so why not give it a chance. Faith or luck, or some other word that means a random occurence that works out in your favor. So i take off my shoe and throw it as high as i possibly can. The elevation of my shoe nearly reaches the top of the trees and comes barreling down. It points to the right of me, so i go to the left. And walk for a few more hours in my sinking shoes. My body aches as my soul searches. Trying to piece together the direction i am heading and trying to remember why i am on such a journey. I didn't have any answer when i stepped out of that burning edifice. But the best time to come up with a reason is after the has already happened. So i guess i left because i wanted to change. I was stuck in Winter and just wanted to revolve and be Spring. Be born again.
Later, after walking through the remaining shrubbery i reached the concrete playground. Miles across filled with cement blocks that look oddly too perfect. It was like looking at an ocean during a sunset. an abandoned necessity that fills your tears with knowledge. Knowledge is when you intertwine your experiences and education. Time to finally fall into my footsteps and find out the lure. Information will always live even when it is not being comprehended just like any ancient language. We can try to decipher the codes but we can never get it right. Anything right. The only way to consume information is to live in the present and do your own journalism. Research and explore the depths of text and visualizations and combine your findings into wisdom. So i head in the only direction i know how. Looking for the resource we all take for granted in the building that was handed to us. Just to tease us. A place that's full of words but never crosses our mind. The chapel in the clouds, my childhood library.
The stairs had an odd step to them all. Awkwardly paced and randomly placed. By the looks of them, it must of been the first thing the contractors put in. Chips and welts taken out of the cement that must of stuck to the strangers that coerced on the steps. The Architecture is definitely early millennium, just an update from his past self. The idealization still bothers me. Updating and old system that's dated to past technologies. Then we have to train ourselves to be able to adapt to the past and the present. Trying to relate old mechanics with new statistics. The glass was broken by an angry soul when they finally closed the doors after i left two decades ago. But the front doors still remained open. Intruders or philanthropists? I open the doors so they remain completely free and that is when the smell of old books hit me. It is just the same as grandmas house. Dust that has been un-touched for over a year. Dead skin cells building up on one another, the mixing of DNA from passerby's. The personalities of tempted humans connecting with the tempters. Clouds of the smell exist in the library.
The main reception room must of shrunk since my last visit. I thought the ceiling reached 20 feet high when i was 11 but now i see that it barely covers my head. Proportions like to play tricks on you when you age. I guess the older you get the more you realized parts of your life was just your mind playing tricks on you to help relieve some sort of emotional pain. Your memory tells you something happened a certain way to make your point a certainty. But then i see the stained wood overlays that i used to brush by everyday while leaving. The linoleum has been washed away and stains have immersed themselves on the old panes of dead wood but the reminiscence still exists. I follow my fond memories that only can be brought up through these sincere moments, and i tread on to the main floor. Literally stacked with books from philosophy to children's fiction. The Dewey decimal system has been long forgotten and any one seeking a good read has forgotten about politeness and left their books pressed on top of others. Some books completely trashed, pages scattered on top of the tables and reserved stacks back regulars. Somehow i managed to come when silence was standardized and only a few, young souls existed in the structures of a run-down library. Two out of the 5 gentlemen are obviously here because this is their home. No one checks up on ghost towns and only the ones who fear leaving exist anymore. The other 3 are trying to get some researching done. Finding the odd books that most established libraries don't bother ordering but the historians adore. But i guess i am here for a different reason. To finally put an end to this debate over the Occulum technology. To discover the truth and drown out the fabricated lies and rumors.
Before i get to any of that though, I need to take the time to look around. To understand the living situations here and maybe converse and interact before i mark my territories. So i head over to the nearest table of the 2 squatters and say "So what brings you two boys here?" And it looks like they took kindly to that. They both look into each others eye and the one closest to me, the one with dark auburn hair chimes out "We were originally from here, Autumn and decided to come back. Our university, Northeastern, didn't receive our payments so we decided to pack up and come back home and now we reside here." And then i took a seat and played catch through communication. Reminiscing citizens, stalkers, the gossipers. Even though they were a decade behind me, they still followed the public news. And then 3 hours have passed. I forgot to get any inside scoop on the inter-workings of the current library but i did get a nice feel of friendship and new memories of old situations. If only we understood our memories and could interpret why our long-term memories only come back to us when others bring up their memories that exist in the same time frame. The brain intrigues and confuses me. But it was to late to ponder so i tried to find a place to sleep. Most of the less-important rooms in the library were already taken up. The managers office, receptions office, and the break room were in use so i took to the janitors closet. The most vacant place in the whole building. And then i shut my eyes and hummed an improvisational song to rock me to sleep. Sleep that i never managed to get growing up. I used to take advantage of sleep and be afraid of my dreams. Being put into a situation which your brain controls. The only time your brain can trap you in its slick webs and eat away at you. Your conscious isn't their anymore to clear up a situation. But now I love it. Letting yourself become your own slave. The only trouble i have is remembering to never take a dream to serious. Its only a form of entertainment when you lie motionless for 8 hours, give or take.
Then as my dreams of circling suns finally starts to make sense i wake up abruptly. Living in the dark with no option of light is hard to embrace. I hear scurrying and many footsteps. Some objects being put into bags and a slew of cheers echoes the chambers around the main entrance. The echoes pick up, multiply until the noise is hard to track. And then a frantic, hard pressed pace towards the exit. My guess is bandits. A rather fairy tale approach to take in the situation but what your mother told you is true. Always pack up your belongings and make sure you have many hiding places. They never steal the over-abundant such as books but notes, journals or any keepsake left out like watches, glasses. Anything of vague value that could be needed anywhere is the only things they take. Thiefs at least have a guilt conscious. I try so hard to fall back asleep but the fear has provoked me to stay awake in my lair. Right next to the plunger. And i finally rise when the sweat starts pouring from my sunken pours and the beads start to hit the grimacing floor. So i reach for the door, only to be met with a un-usual face. Kaleb is right in front of me but none of it seems real. He tries to comfort me, to tell me everything will always be okay and he just needs to finish this one thing for our lifes to be perfect. I try to look him dead in the eyes but to my knowledge, he is wearing an Occulum so i could never believe him. He tells me his is currently in Jesum City and then he turns and walks away. I try to catch up to him but nothing was anywhere. I am in a completely empty building that hardly resembles the library at all. All sanity has left the building and a fall to the ground and faint.
Then i wake up again and feel suddenly nauseous. Like i have entered the stratosphere and returned to my natural state every millisecond for a minute. Shaken up. I feel dry blood on my forehead or expect their to be some but nothing. No scrapes, no bruises and no sign of anything that happened last night. I lunge forward from the door and everything is exactly as i remember it from yesterday. Everything has a differently feel to it. This place is so active and lively. Each book contains one hundred answers and all i have to do is find patterns under the topic of an Occulum.
Even though this library hasn't been manually run in a few years, they still get the newspapers and you can easily place an order for any book or article. The internet doesn't exist since computers became obsolete. When any timed labor is involved anymore, its ran by a nice and trusting robot. Internal theft hasn't existed for 12 years in most businesses. So i place an order for some outstanding research articles titled "The Statistics and the Occulum", "What the Occulum could do for all of us", and "What in the hell is an Occulum?" and then wait for a few days and Bingo, they are right here. Netflix of the 21st century. But for anything that is deliverable. Quite nice.
Journal Entry 52: Sarah (9:12 A.M.) 9/15/34
The dream with Kale caught me off guard. A dream inside of a dream is always the least expected. It's to much for a psyche to handle. It left me confused and stumbling over my own thoughts. It felt real but that's why dreams are so great. Their wasn't much said, just glances and occasional looks and his words. His two sentences, quick and to the point, will be burned into my mental notes till the die i am finally released. Released from the sanctions that our reality holds on all of us. Our perception is one thing but then their is the absolute fact. Everything we do is permanent and can never be changed. Every time we do a simple task, the etching in the sand gets deeper and deeper until we can not use that area anymore. Then we search and do the same thing. Until everything is contaminated.
Their was things he said that made no sense especially his location. "Experts" say that everything that is entitled in your dreams actually have a meaning. Usually depression and suicidal tendencies but those are meaning nonetheless and must be taken into account. The library was completely empty when he was there. I think i am rather intellectual but maybe the meaning of an empty library means i have no wisdom. What i say is just some depressed human trying to make meaning into her lonely life. Then he told me everything will be ok. Comfort, security. Everything i might actually need in my life and what i actually dream of. Saying dream is hard to right. I guess its my goals. Dreams our nonsense and maybe goals are too and that is why we lump these two words together. Then he told me his whereabouts. Jesum city. I looked it up and there is no and has never been a Jesum city. Is it an anagram? Or a bump in my memory, something that must be trigger through memory. Even though time can warp your views on time, distance and colors it can not distort what has already been said.
The Dissection
Through the crumples of the piles of paper, i finally find the right one. My plans to end all this debacle in a timely manner. And after failing my persuasion techniques with the other two. I now need to persuade myself once again. If people can not see my point of view on the subject, maybe i am the one who is just wrong. But i finally found that piece of paper after hours searching. Why have i littered my room with random sheets of paper. Probably just so i can loose the ones that mean the most to me. To have the sense of loss and the ever-growing determination of fear. Striking after searching that "one" spot you thought it would be. Then saying "shit" and "fuck" a few times and going back into the game. You either have two options. To keep playing the game, keep searching, keep getting more and more aggravated and irritated until you either succumb to the second option or, more importantly, find the object that is lost. That moment of pure ecstasy when you lie your hands on that long, lost treasure. But then there is always option two. Once you checked all those secure, obvious locations and you finally ended up on the notion of failure. Then you start again. Trying to piece together the ideas on that page, what you had before and all the grand ideas, and then you add more. It is a new-age brainstorm.
So i pull it out, read through it all, connecting the lines and the ideas, intertwining my thoughts, and reassure myself that i actually am correct. Even though it is my perspective on the world and my ideas support my theories but i feel i can (maybe) look past all of that and try to see what mankind would want. People love to control but no one loves to be someone elses puppet. So why do these positions exist? Maybe the majority of us are incompetent, phycotic lunatics that will not and can not function under our precious management. And my conception of a utopia doesn't seem to far fetched or one-sided. Completely fair and benevolent. I trace my finger over the wear and tear and un-crease the folds and realize i should probably put it onto another piece of paper. It's to sloppy to be a proper proposal. I mistakenly wrote it under a sleepless night while my brain was spinning three hundred and sixty degrees like one of the old semi's on a highway. So i jotted it all down while my eyes were glazed over from restlessness. And then after it was all put down on paper, I tucked it in my wallet and it unlocked my dreams and then i could finally, happily fall asleep. But now i finally realize that i folded up before the ink could dry and some of it smeared, most of it still readable and comprehensible but perfection leads to a visual persuasion. So before i start my presentation after my big let-down, i start re-writing it all. Simple and beautiful but groundbreaking. The best things are.
After re-furbishing my masterpiece, i head into the archways of the loft that is currently holding Jacque and Riley and say "I found it." They didn't believe my ramblings over last nights game of Risk but now that i have the sheet, they will be easily inveigled. Their minds will crumble to the logic and pure brilliance of my thought out plan. I herd them around the piece of wood we like to call "the battered table" and practically sit them on my knee. I tell them that the beginning of the future lies with us but will need everybody to become a truly, perfect Utopia. I am really selling this. The start of it all lies within the Occulum. It is our saving grace but to anyone out of the Sovernment offices, it is a complete mystery. Its uses have not been described by them or even the users. Its quite odd how none of us has ever seen any of them, as if they are living in a different planet then ours or invisible to our naked eyes. Step one is all about getting our hands on an Occulum and finding out its incredible magnificence. But we must not fall for its lust, we must search out all of its capabilities and improve it. If everyone has one of these devices, we must hold the best. It will be the easiest way to achieve eminense.
They start to really eat it up. Jacque obviously seems attached to the idea since most of it would consist with his expertise. His hands are powerful but also careful. His motor skills are instinct and he works mostly with his eyes and his hands follow the preciseness. When his eyes lite up, i knew it would only be a matter of seconds until Riley fell for the bait too. They worked as a pair, spiritually connected like the bestest of friends. No discussion was needed when i finished my pitch and they both just nodded so slightly. And my heart picked up and pumped at a tremendous pace. If i could allure two good friends, who else would follow. That's a question that will be answered farther down this path. But what we really worried about was the Occulum. How would we get an opportunity to have one in our soft palms. I knew they were still doing operations but no one has ever tried to remove one. So without any consequences or fear, we begin to plan. Without any of these plans, we would have no basis. Even if its a simple idea, we would never be able to spawn a greater concept. Without ideas, we would still be rubbing two sticks together under a starry, cold night. We wouldn't be on the top of the food chain and evolution would of never kicked in. We wouldn't even exist. And it all consists off of a easy premise.
The easiest step was to decide on who was going to actually obtain the Occulum. It was all my suggestion, so i will become the guinea pig. The only thing that scares me is what would actually happen when we remove it from my cornea. What is it actually connected to? I'm not afraid of death, i just fear failure. I've left so much behind to stumble upon quick sand right when everything is getting interesting. We've living in the same system for over two thousand years and we need in with the new and out with the old. We need some sort of seed to be planted. And i want to be a modern johnny appleseed. But i all i need now is some rest for the retrieval.
When i rose, right before the sun peaked its flames over the horizon, to the relief of darkness and all the encumbers. I dressed the same and didn't put on some act that will be easy to distinguished in the light of day. I went into the clinic as myself and left just the same. It was a quite simple process that only needed identification and some signatures. I asked for a copy of the proposal so we could look it over later to gain a better sense of the spinning cog. The procedure wasn't so simple though. I planted a bug which was the size of a thumb-tack to watch it all as i lied on the counter, dazed and confused under a profusely hot light. The room smelled like laundry detergent and felt humid and moist. Probably to evaporate my tear ducts for any sort of mis-hap. They harness you down with many leather belts and metal chains for any lash-backs. After you are given the strong sedative, two men enter the room with full body suits to prevent any infection and for a safe disguise. Their viewfinders were one sided mirrors, just in case you do see them enter the room the shock of your own sight would send you to the morgue. They pull over a laser and some diamond encrusted knifes used only for mistakes. They first etch a small circle around the pupil and add a few drops of infectant to the area. Then they widen the eyelids to snip away until the lens is removed and they replace with a significantly smaller lens. They then pull the eye towards them a few inches and add wiring from the lens, run it down the hyloid canal, carefully split the optical nerve and attach the two. After everything seems to be working, through movements in the eye and ordinary blinking, they then insert the occulum which sits above the ear and wraps around towards the eye. It almost looks like a semi-halo that ends at the edge of the pupil, which is closest to the nose. Finally, they hammer it into place and the procedure is done. They then carry you off into an un-disclosed location for further testings and understanding of the occulum. Somehow, they drug you to forget the training so it all seems instinctively. As if you were born with such knowledge to work a device. The last thing i remember them telling me was that the Occulum was updated systematically every time you fall asleep for optimum functionality and use. After those sentences, i said my farewells and hurried out of their. The Occulum is useless the first day since it is not trapped into existence and seamlessly updated. so all i can do now is not fall asleep until we remove this un-godly item from my face.
After exiting the steel doors, i begin to stare around and really start to look at the city. The amazement in architecture and the height. Goals accomplished. Buildings used to be a race. If you had the biggest, it actually meant something. A friendly game of cat and mouse that nations would partake in. That was when the communication lines were open. Constantly trading ideas so we could not only better ourselves but the world too. The we resided back into the Middle Ages. Everyone is out for themselves. No more aid, no more healing hands. If your not making money then your wasting it. And no one these days would think of wasting money.
Walking to their warehouse felt like it took hours when it should, in fact, take 20 minutes. Everything stuck out. The absence of bodies made the buildings seem alive. The windows are their eyes and the infrastructure their bodies. Each metal beam is a bone in their spine and the foundation our the two feet. But the beauty to these skyscrapers, which makes the city paradoxical, is that none of them are in a hurry. They gossip all day were there fellow friends and that is that. When the lights get turned off, they go to bed. Just like i must do.
My eyes wander off and i can feel my dreams fluttering in. Things being filtered out and other vivid ideas being pushed forward. When i finally reach the front entrance to my home, the doors not there. Just one man, towering above me with ferocious eyes and muscles that could run me over. Just the presence of a person, not in disguise, startles my fight or flight reflexes and i take a sliding dive underneath his legs as if i was playing freeze tag. Then I am suddenly in "living" room were Jacque and Riley are waiting. They kind of look frightened but my eye does the talking and they know what to do. They instantly lift their paused game of risk, move if off to a corner and lay me down. We don't have the same resources those doctors had so we made do with a hammer, some varying pliers and other random household utensils and items. What we don't have in resources, we make up in time. So they wash their hands thoroughly and get to work while i lay on the cold, wooden table that has seen better days.
Since they do not freely give out anesthetics, we make do by doing the most ancients of techniques. Inhale through the mouth and exhale through your nose. Stay calm and imagine the pain to be something delighting. An electric shock, someone hitting your funny bone, cracking your knuckles, an orgasm. But as the first cut slides into my weakened flesh, the practices fall apart. Nothing to tranquilize the searing, constant, throbbing, blood dripping slices of a steak knife. Never meant to be used as such torture but i try not to flinch and think of happier thoughts. The day after today. But they continue the operation after my mouth finally will not stay gnawing on my bottom. After the blood rushes to reach my taste buds, I need to do the only sane thing during the entire day and just scream. Mouth is as wide as it can be, perfectly O shaped and i let a gurgling yell.
Riley pauses and just stares at me, knowing that my beliefs want him to go further. To finish the task. But my body is acting against my ideologies. It's trembling at the hands, un-controllable fidgeting down to my legs, tears running from my eyes and snot pouring from my nostrils. I am putting my self into it's own stroke. I am the kidnapper and the victim in the same circumstance. After a minute of stopping, they are both done with the incisions and take the pliers and strap it to the Occulum. The metal on metal contact makes my cheek bones nervous and then everything suddenly turns ice cold. My forehead is sweating from the steady stream of light from our reading lamp turned surgical light but the rest of me, feels like hypothermia. Maybe i am already dead and this is just an out of body experience. The shock of the torture sent my conscious of my flesh and bones to mourn myself. Jacque starts the countdown from ten.
9. I feel like this is one terrible idea waiting to happen
8. What if they forgot something and my eyeball goes with it
7. I shut my other eye to combat the agony of the other one. At least they are together.
6. I squeeze tight, steady my breaths and just wait for the moment of relief.
5. My favorite number.
4. I decide to leave my eye open actually. So when the other one actually becomes use-less, my right eye won't be afraid too.
3. Finally something is happening. My plan has been sitting around for weeks, I am doing something that i have always wanted.
2. We are making breakthroughs. No one has ever done this and things make start looking up. The world is a clock and finally the second, minute and the hour hand our lining up. It's time to change
1. What if i was wrong? I could die in a second and so much failure. So much hatred. No legacy, no one will care if this is the last moment of Kalebeth Thompson Teeth and not one single person will bemoan me.
0. Everything goes black. It's not the same as resting your eyes because no light penetrates through my eyelids. It's pitch black, absolute darkness and i suddenly become claustrophobic. Then i realize that i am not stuck in any nooks or crannies but i am floating through space. Descending from my body and losing myself. But i continue because i like the feeling. The feeling of endless and infinite exploration. A new world that will never be in sight. Everything is around me and nothing at the same time. Maybe their is some sort of clue if i just journey on for a little bit longer. I can feel the black mist whiff past my body as i swim through it. Cold and distracting. This is all a new experience that is too hard to explain. Try closing your eyes. Are they shut? Really clench your eyelids closed and turn off all the lights in your room. Then press your palms into your eye sockets and concentrate. Focus on the spinning, green swirls until you get lost. Then after doing it for 30 seconds and you want to give up, keep holding it. Don't give up and focus. Imagine. And that is where my whole body is. Floating through the eloquent absence of humanity. It's your own little place to go when everything goes wrong.
The Initiative Part 1
Those days are far behind me. The house has been abandoned like i have been because the treachery was to much to bear. All items that remind me of my past have been smashed, tore, ripped into tiny pieces. I sprinkled them like ash around my territory, circularly around me in our bedroom and struck a match. The flame reached his clothes and carried throughout our picture frames and then to the drapes that we picked out together. The fire engulfed me in a circular pattern. Rising above me and over me as if i was in a force field. After the form fitted around me, i took one deep breath and held it in. i then carefully stepped out of my orb and re-traced my footsteps of yesterday to the front yard. Then immediately ran to the forest where i last saw Kale. I am not on manhunt or trying to find him because i know where he is now is were he wants to be. You can't change a direction of a line and the same goes for a mans dreams. Life used to make sense but now i feel if insanity has crept in. Insomnia has definitely trapped me. Every time i close my eyes it feels like i have developed a case of vertigo. When darkness surrounds you, the loneliness sinks in and your security has finally left you to survive on your own.
Finding the path i used to take every morning was trouble-some in the dark. Since you can't use your most keen sense of sight, you have to remember the feel of it all. It was actually easier to close my eyes and pretend to be blind. Letting my other 4 senses finally take over and lead me through the passages of dense forestry. The breaks in deadwood scattered beneath the dead leaves. Innocent weeps when winter slowly presses in. Death, Decay and Re-birth all in a matter of years. Only time can tell. Sometimes branches and tree limbs get intertwined around my clothes and pulls me down and i have to delay my travels to find my way out. As soon as I walked off my path, I instantly got lost. No more routines, no more planning and being ahead of task. All is lost and it is time for some sort of major change. In the world and in me.
A half an hour into walking the abyss of shadows and retrospect, i lose my balance and trip over something. I don't know if it was a branch, an animal, vines or a foot. The apprehension followed me all the way to the pile of firewood. I thought i hit my head hard enough to be knocked unconscious but i guess not. The pain trembled and the fright started picking away from my knees and started working on the rest of my joints. Knowing that i was alone...forever, i still had 3 more hours until sunlight and paralysis set in mid-fumble. When people ask if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise...just answer yes. It doesn't just make a noise but an explosion. It does more than strike the ear but it trembles the body and makes your pupils roll around. Its inspiring and dislimning. I would of ran for the nearest peaceful destination but the sound was addicting and the absence of feeling other than enjoyment has left my cerebral. Only if I entered the Occulum program, this would all feel like a blank state to me. Once the technology enters into all of reality and casts it slim filter towards every facet of our lives is when our lives become obsolete and the fittest. We are currently winning the "war" and thus keeping pushing all other organisms into a state of surrender. Humans are about territory and entertainment. If your deemed wrong, your carefully labeled endangered. If you stand up and ask why, your get slaughtered and branded extinct. We like to discuss the idea of being free, the responsibilities of freedom and our "rights" but what about other earth-dwellers rights? Isn't it all an hypocrisy when we invade our wilderness and start looking for answers. Answers for us but no solutions for the entire scheme of things.
After convulsing for air for the first few seconds of re-consciousness, i realized the sanctity of my un-touched void has relapsed. I finally can move but what is the point after so many years of it. Staying active, being busy and waking up to early. Sometimes even earlier than the birds just for fate. For a joking purpose...to be wanted. To be the nurturer to our forgetful and abandoned lives. To step in the shoes of the un-employed Mother Nature but i was a peasant jumping into a kings palace. And then i stand up, turn a complete 360 degrees and realize i have no clue which direction i was heading to. So i figure faith hasn't helped me yet so why not give it a chance. Faith or luck, or some other word that means a random occurence that works out in your favor. So i take off my shoe and throw it as high as i possibly can. The elevation of my shoe nearly reaches the top of the trees and comes barreling down. It points to the right of me, so i go to the left. And walk for a few more hours in my sinking shoes. My body aches as my soul searches. Trying to piece together the direction i am heading and trying to remember why i am on such a journey. I didn't have any answer when i stepped out of that burning edifice. But the best time to come up with a reason is after the has already happened. So i guess i left because i wanted to change. I was stuck in Winter and just wanted to revolve and be Spring. Be born again.
Later, after walking through the remaining shrubbery i reached the concrete playground. Miles across filled with cement blocks that look oddly too perfect. It was like looking at an ocean during a sunset. an abandoned necessity that fills your tears with knowledge. Knowledge is when you intertwine your experiences and education. Time to finally fall into my footsteps and find out the lure. Information will always live even when it is not being comprehended just like any ancient language. We can try to decipher the codes but we can never get it right. Anything right. The only way to consume information is to live in the present and do your own journalism. Research and explore the depths of text and visualizations and combine your findings into wisdom. So i head in the only direction i know how. Looking for the resource we all take for granted in the building that was handed to us. Just to tease us. A place that's full of words but never crosses our mind. The chapel in the clouds, my childhood library.
The stairs had an odd step to them all. Awkwardly paced and randomly placed. By the looks of them, it must of been the first thing the contractors put in. Chips and welts taken out of the cement that must of stuck to the strangers that coerced on the steps. The Architecture is definitely early millennium, just an update from his past self. The idealization still bothers me. Updating and old system that's dated to past technologies. Then we have to train ourselves to be able to adapt to the past and the present. Trying to relate old mechanics with new statistics. The glass was broken by an angry soul when they finally closed the doors after i left two decades ago. But the front doors still remained open. Intruders or philanthropists? I open the doors so they remain completely free and that is when the smell of old books hit me. It is just the same as grandmas house. Dust that has been un-touched for over a year. Dead skin cells building up on one another, the mixing of DNA from passerby's. The personalities of tempted humans connecting with the tempters. Clouds of the smell exist in the library.
The main reception room must of shrunk since my last visit. I thought the ceiling reached 20 feet high when i was 11 but now i see that it barely covers my head. Proportions like to play tricks on you when you age. I guess the older you get the more you realized parts of your life was just your mind playing tricks on you to help relieve some sort of emotional pain. Your memory tells you something happened a certain way to make your point a certainty. But then i see the stained wood overlays that i used to brush by everyday while leaving. The linoleum has been washed away and stains have immersed themselves on the old panes of dead wood but the reminiscence still exists. I follow my fond memories that only can be brought up through these sincere moments, and i tread on to the main floor. Literally stacked with books from philosophy to children's fiction. The Dewey decimal system has been long forgotten and any one seeking a good read has forgotten about politeness and left their books pressed on top of others. Some books completely trashed, pages scattered on top of the tables and reserved stacks back regulars. Somehow i managed to come when silence was standardized and only a few, young souls existed in the structures of a run-down library. Two out of the 5 gentlemen are obviously here because this is their home. No one checks up on ghost towns and only the ones who fear leaving exist anymore. The other 3 are trying to get some researching done. Finding the odd books that most established libraries don't bother ordering but the historians adore. But i guess i am here for a different reason. To finally put an end to this debate over the Occulum technology. To discover the truth and drown out the fabricated lies and rumors.
Before i get to any of that though, I need to take the time to look around. To understand the living situations here and maybe converse and interact before i mark my territories. So i head over to the nearest table of the 2 squatters and say "So what brings you two boys here?" And it looks like they took kindly to that. They both look into each others eye and the one closest to me, the one with dark auburn hair chimes out "We were originally from here, Autumn and decided to come back. Our university, Northeastern, didn't receive our payments so we decided to pack up and come back home and now we reside here." And then i took a seat and played catch through communication. Reminiscing citizens, stalkers, the gossipers. Even though they were a decade behind me, they still followed the public news. And then 3 hours have passed. I forgot to get any inside scoop on the inter-workings of the current library but i did get a nice feel of friendship and new memories of old situations. If only we understood our memories and could interpret why our long-term memories only come back to us when others bring up their memories that exist in the same time frame. The brain intrigues and confuses me. But it was to late to ponder so i tried to find a place to sleep. Most of the less-important rooms in the library were already taken up. The managers office, receptions office, and the break room were in use so i took to the janitors closet. The most vacant place in the whole building. And then i shut my eyes and hummed an improvisational song to rock me to sleep. Sleep that i never managed to get growing up. I used to take advantage of sleep and be afraid of my dreams. Being put into a situation which your brain controls. The only time your brain can trap you in its slick webs and eat away at you. Your conscious isn't their anymore to clear up a situation. But now I love it. Letting yourself become your own slave. The only trouble i have is remembering to never take a dream to serious. Its only a form of entertainment when you lie motionless for 8 hours, give or take.
Then as my dreams of circling suns finally starts to make sense i wake up abruptly. Living in the dark with no option of light is hard to embrace. I hear scurrying and many footsteps. Some objects being put into bags and a slew of cheers echoes the chambers around the main entrance. The echoes pick up, multiply until the noise is hard to track. And then a frantic, hard pressed pace towards the exit. My guess is bandits. A rather fairy tale approach to take in the situation but what your mother told you is true. Always pack up your belongings and make sure you have many hiding places. They never steal the over-abundant such as books but notes, journals or any keepsake left out like watches, glasses. Anything of vague value that could be needed anywhere is the only things they take. Thiefs at least have a guilt conscious. I try so hard to fall back asleep but the fear has provoked me to stay awake in my lair. Right next to the plunger. And i finally rise when the sweat starts pouring from my sunken pours and the beads start to hit the grimacing floor. So i reach for the door, only to be met with a un-usual face. Kaleb is right in front of me but none of it seems real. He tries to comfort me, to tell me everything will always be okay and he just needs to finish this one thing for our lifes to be perfect. I try to look him dead in the eyes but to my knowledge, he is wearing an Occulum so i could never believe him. He tells me his is currently in Jesum City and then he turns and walks away. I try to catch up to him but nothing was anywhere. I am in a completely empty building that hardly resembles the library at all. All sanity has left the building and a fall to the ground and faint.
Then i wake up again and feel suddenly nauseous. Like i have entered the stratosphere and returned to my natural state every millisecond for a minute. Shaken up. I feel dry blood on my forehead or expect their to be some but nothing. No scrapes, no bruises and no sign of anything that happened last night. I lunge forward from the door and everything is exactly as i remember it from yesterday. Everything has a differently feel to it. This place is so active and lively. Each book contains one hundred answers and all i have to do is find patterns under the topic of an Occulum.
Even though this library hasn't been manually run in a few years, they still get the newspapers and you can easily place an order for any book or article. The internet doesn't exist since computers became obsolete. When any timed labor is involved anymore, its ran by a nice and trusting robot. Internal theft hasn't existed for 12 years in most businesses. So i place an order for some outstanding research articles titled "The Statistics and the Occulum", "What the Occulum could do for all of us", and "What in the hell is an Occulum?" and then wait for a few days and Bingo, they are right here. Netflix of the 21st century. But for anything that is deliverable. Quite nice.
Journal Entry 52: Sarah (9:12 A.M.) 9/15/34
The dream with Kale caught me off guard. A dream inside of a dream is always the least expected. It's to much for a psyche to handle. It left me confused and stumbling over my own thoughts. It felt real but that's why dreams are so great. Their wasn't much said, just glances and occasional looks and his words. His two sentences, quick and to the point, will be burned into my mental notes till the die i am finally released. Released from the sanctions that our reality holds on all of us. Our perception is one thing but then their is the absolute fact. Everything we do is permanent and can never be changed. Every time we do a simple task, the etching in the sand gets deeper and deeper until we can not use that area anymore. Then we search and do the same thing. Until everything is contaminated.
Their was things he said that made no sense especially his location. "Experts" say that everything that is entitled in your dreams actually have a meaning. Usually depression and suicidal tendencies but those are meaning nonetheless and must be taken into account. The library was completely empty when he was there. I think i am rather intellectual but maybe the meaning of an empty library means i have no wisdom. What i say is just some depressed human trying to make meaning into her lonely life. Then he told me everything will be ok. Comfort, security. Everything i might actually need in my life and what i actually dream of. Saying dream is hard to right. I guess its my goals. Dreams our nonsense and maybe goals are too and that is why we lump these two words together. Then he told me his whereabouts. Jesum city. I looked it up and there is no and has never been a Jesum city. Is it an anagram? Or a bump in my memory, something that must be trigger through memory. Even though time can warp your views on time, distance and colors it can not distort what has already been said.
The Dissection
Through the crumples of the piles of paper, i finally find the right one. My plans to end all this debacle in a timely manner. And after failing my persuasion techniques with the other two. I now need to persuade myself once again. If people can not see my point of view on the subject, maybe i am the one who is just wrong. But i finally found that piece of paper after hours searching. Why have i littered my room with random sheets of paper. Probably just so i can loose the ones that mean the most to me. To have the sense of loss and the ever-growing determination of fear. Striking after searching that "one" spot you thought it would be. Then saying "shit" and "fuck" a few times and going back into the game. You either have two options. To keep playing the game, keep searching, keep getting more and more aggravated and irritated until you either succumb to the second option or, more importantly, find the object that is lost. That moment of pure ecstasy when you lie your hands on that long, lost treasure. But then there is always option two. Once you checked all those secure, obvious locations and you finally ended up on the notion of failure. Then you start again. Trying to piece together the ideas on that page, what you had before and all the grand ideas, and then you add more. It is a new-age brainstorm.
So i pull it out, read through it all, connecting the lines and the ideas, intertwining my thoughts, and reassure myself that i actually am correct. Even though it is my perspective on the world and my ideas support my theories but i feel i can (maybe) look past all of that and try to see what mankind would want. People love to control but no one loves to be someone elses puppet. So why do these positions exist? Maybe the majority of us are incompetent, phycotic lunatics that will not and can not function under our precious management. And my conception of a utopia doesn't seem to far fetched or one-sided. Completely fair and benevolent. I trace my finger over the wear and tear and un-crease the folds and realize i should probably put it onto another piece of paper. It's to sloppy to be a proper proposal. I mistakenly wrote it under a sleepless night while my brain was spinning three hundred and sixty degrees like one of the old semi's on a highway. So i jotted it all down while my eyes were glazed over from restlessness. And then after it was all put down on paper, I tucked it in my wallet and it unlocked my dreams and then i could finally, happily fall asleep. But now i finally realize that i folded up before the ink could dry and some of it smeared, most of it still readable and comprehensible but perfection leads to a visual persuasion. So before i start my presentation after my big let-down, i start re-writing it all. Simple and beautiful but groundbreaking. The best things are.
After re-furbishing my masterpiece, i head into the archways of the loft that is currently holding Jacque and Riley and say "I found it." They didn't believe my ramblings over last nights game of Risk but now that i have the sheet, they will be easily inveigled. Their minds will crumble to the logic and pure brilliance of my thought out plan. I herd them around the piece of wood we like to call "the battered table" and practically sit them on my knee. I tell them that the beginning of the future lies with us but will need everybody to become a truly, perfect Utopia. I am really selling this. The start of it all lies within the Occulum. It is our saving grace but to anyone out of the Sovernment offices, it is a complete mystery. Its uses have not been described by them or even the users. Its quite odd how none of us has ever seen any of them, as if they are living in a different planet then ours or invisible to our naked eyes. Step one is all about getting our hands on an Occulum and finding out its incredible magnificence. But we must not fall for its lust, we must search out all of its capabilities and improve it. If everyone has one of these devices, we must hold the best. It will be the easiest way to achieve eminense.
They start to really eat it up. Jacque obviously seems attached to the idea since most of it would consist with his expertise. His hands are powerful but also careful. His motor skills are instinct and he works mostly with his eyes and his hands follow the preciseness. When his eyes lite up, i knew it would only be a matter of seconds until Riley fell for the bait too. They worked as a pair, spiritually connected like the bestest of friends. No discussion was needed when i finished my pitch and they both just nodded so slightly. And my heart picked up and pumped at a tremendous pace. If i could allure two good friends, who else would follow. That's a question that will be answered farther down this path. But what we really worried about was the Occulum. How would we get an opportunity to have one in our soft palms. I knew they were still doing operations but no one has ever tried to remove one. So without any consequences or fear, we begin to plan. Without any of these plans, we would have no basis. Even if its a simple idea, we would never be able to spawn a greater concept. Without ideas, we would still be rubbing two sticks together under a starry, cold night. We wouldn't be on the top of the food chain and evolution would of never kicked in. We wouldn't even exist. And it all consists off of a easy premise.
The easiest step was to decide on who was going to actually obtain the Occulum. It was all my suggestion, so i will become the guinea pig. The only thing that scares me is what would actually happen when we remove it from my cornea. What is it actually connected to? I'm not afraid of death, i just fear failure. I've left so much behind to stumble upon quick sand right when everything is getting interesting. We've living in the same system for over two thousand years and we need in with the new and out with the old. We need some sort of seed to be planted. And i want to be a modern johnny appleseed. But i all i need now is some rest for the retrieval.
When i rose, right before the sun peaked its flames over the horizon, to the relief of darkness and all the encumbers. I dressed the same and didn't put on some act that will be easy to distinguished in the light of day. I went into the clinic as myself and left just the same. It was a quite simple process that only needed identification and some signatures. I asked for a copy of the proposal so we could look it over later to gain a better sense of the spinning cog. The procedure wasn't so simple though. I planted a bug which was the size of a thumb-tack to watch it all as i lied on the counter, dazed and confused under a profusely hot light. The room smelled like laundry detergent and felt humid and moist. Probably to evaporate my tear ducts for any sort of mis-hap. They harness you down with many leather belts and metal chains for any lash-backs. After you are given the strong sedative, two men enter the room with full body suits to prevent any infection and for a safe disguise. Their viewfinders were one sided mirrors, just in case you do see them enter the room the shock of your own sight would send you to the morgue. They pull over a laser and some diamond encrusted knifes used only for mistakes. They first etch a small circle around the pupil and add a few drops of infectant to the area. Then they widen the eyelids to snip away until the lens is removed and they replace with a significantly smaller lens. They then pull the eye towards them a few inches and add wiring from the lens, run it down the hyloid canal, carefully split the optical nerve and attach the two. After everything seems to be working, through movements in the eye and ordinary blinking, they then insert the occulum which sits above the ear and wraps around towards the eye. It almost looks like a semi-halo that ends at the edge of the pupil, which is closest to the nose. Finally, they hammer it into place and the procedure is done. They then carry you off into an un-disclosed location for further testings and understanding of the occulum. Somehow, they drug you to forget the training so it all seems instinctively. As if you were born with such knowledge to work a device. The last thing i remember them telling me was that the Occulum was updated systematically every time you fall asleep for optimum functionality and use. After those sentences, i said my farewells and hurried out of their. The Occulum is useless the first day since it is not trapped into existence and seamlessly updated. so all i can do now is not fall asleep until we remove this un-godly item from my face.
After exiting the steel doors, i begin to stare around and really start to look at the city. The amazement in architecture and the height. Goals accomplished. Buildings used to be a race. If you had the biggest, it actually meant something. A friendly game of cat and mouse that nations would partake in. That was when the communication lines were open. Constantly trading ideas so we could not only better ourselves but the world too. The we resided back into the Middle Ages. Everyone is out for themselves. No more aid, no more healing hands. If your not making money then your wasting it. And no one these days would think of wasting money.
Walking to their warehouse felt like it took hours when it should, in fact, take 20 minutes. Everything stuck out. The absence of bodies made the buildings seem alive. The windows are their eyes and the infrastructure their bodies. Each metal beam is a bone in their spine and the foundation our the two feet. But the beauty to these skyscrapers, which makes the city paradoxical, is that none of them are in a hurry. They gossip all day were there fellow friends and that is that. When the lights get turned off, they go to bed. Just like i must do.
My eyes wander off and i can feel my dreams fluttering in. Things being filtered out and other vivid ideas being pushed forward. When i finally reach the front entrance to my home, the doors not there. Just one man, towering above me with ferocious eyes and muscles that could run me over. Just the presence of a person, not in disguise, startles my fight or flight reflexes and i take a sliding dive underneath his legs as if i was playing freeze tag. Then I am suddenly in "living" room were Jacque and Riley are waiting. They kind of look frightened but my eye does the talking and they know what to do. They instantly lift their paused game of risk, move if off to a corner and lay me down. We don't have the same resources those doctors had so we made do with a hammer, some varying pliers and other random household utensils and items. What we don't have in resources, we make up in time. So they wash their hands thoroughly and get to work while i lay on the cold, wooden table that has seen better days.
Since they do not freely give out anesthetics, we make do by doing the most ancients of techniques. Inhale through the mouth and exhale through your nose. Stay calm and imagine the pain to be something delighting. An electric shock, someone hitting your funny bone, cracking your knuckles, an orgasm. But as the first cut slides into my weakened flesh, the practices fall apart. Nothing to tranquilize the searing, constant, throbbing, blood dripping slices of a steak knife. Never meant to be used as such torture but i try not to flinch and think of happier thoughts. The day after today. But they continue the operation after my mouth finally will not stay gnawing on my bottom. After the blood rushes to reach my taste buds, I need to do the only sane thing during the entire day and just scream. Mouth is as wide as it can be, perfectly O shaped and i let a gurgling yell.
Riley pauses and just stares at me, knowing that my beliefs want him to go further. To finish the task. But my body is acting against my ideologies. It's trembling at the hands, un-controllable fidgeting down to my legs, tears running from my eyes and snot pouring from my nostrils. I am putting my self into it's own stroke. I am the kidnapper and the victim in the same circumstance. After a minute of stopping, they are both done with the incisions and take the pliers and strap it to the Occulum. The metal on metal contact makes my cheek bones nervous and then everything suddenly turns ice cold. My forehead is sweating from the steady stream of light from our reading lamp turned surgical light but the rest of me, feels like hypothermia. Maybe i am already dead and this is just an out of body experience. The shock of the torture sent my conscious of my flesh and bones to mourn myself. Jacque starts the countdown from ten.
9. I feel like this is one terrible idea waiting to happen
8. What if they forgot something and my eyeball goes with it
7. I shut my other eye to combat the agony of the other one. At least they are together.
6. I squeeze tight, steady my breaths and just wait for the moment of relief.
5. My favorite number.
4. I decide to leave my eye open actually. So when the other one actually becomes use-less, my right eye won't be afraid too.
3. Finally something is happening. My plan has been sitting around for weeks, I am doing something that i have always wanted.
2. We are making breakthroughs. No one has ever done this and things make start looking up. The world is a clock and finally the second, minute and the hour hand our lining up. It's time to change
1. What if i was wrong? I could die in a second and so much failure. So much hatred. No legacy, no one will care if this is the last moment of Kalebeth Thompson Teeth and not one single person will bemoan me.
0. Everything goes black. It's not the same as resting your eyes because no light penetrates through my eyelids. It's pitch black, absolute darkness and i suddenly become claustrophobic. Then i realize that i am not stuck in any nooks or crannies but i am floating through space. Descending from my body and losing myself. But i continue because i like the feeling. The feeling of endless and infinite exploration. A new world that will never be in sight. Everything is around me and nothing at the same time. Maybe their is some sort of clue if i just journey on for a little bit longer. I can feel the black mist whiff past my body as i swim through it. Cold and distracting. This is all a new experience that is too hard to explain. Try closing your eyes. Are they shut? Really clench your eyelids closed and turn off all the lights in your room. Then press your palms into your eye sockets and concentrate. Focus on the spinning, green swirls until you get lost. Then after doing it for 30 seconds and you want to give up, keep holding it. Don't give up and focus. Imagine. And that is where my whole body is. Floating through the eloquent absence of humanity. It's your own little place to go when everything goes wrong.
The Initiative part 2
When the documents arrive, it's not like a mailman comes and knocks on your window to make sure you home and to check up on you. The personality is all gone when you take away the uniform and grind down the old man's face to sheet metal. It just comes then puts whatever it is carrying that day into it's designated location and off it goes. Watching all of this happen, while remembering living when being a mailman was an actual profession doesn't sit right. All small-end communications has been thrown through the window for the slightest convenience.
That bonding that you share with a total stranger through honest small talk inevitably knowing you'll never meet again. Time never stops but, in all our interests we as a nation want to get the most out of each and every second. Their is no more savoring or enjoying. But we love to relax. Most people must just do something because supposedly it feels right even though they, personally, are not interested in what they are partaking in. An identity hardly exists anymore. People rather have their doors shut than opened up to the public. It would be thoughtless to keep your defenses down. No one wants to get into arguments anymore, we have strong opinions but, to argue over it would be hasty. Sometimes, all i ask for, i want someone to stir up the melting pot. First you need assimilation before you can have silence.
After the mailot dropped off his packages, i courteously reached into the drop box to obtain my three freshly printed articles. I was excited. But i was afraid of what might lie ahead. Not only can swords crush their foes but to kill quietly, you must use words. Words to form an idea. Then a simple spark, the idea, can be tossed around like sweaters gathering more and more information to evolve into a Theory. Theories get tested vigorously while everyone involved weighs out the options, the knowledge and the intellect gained by such a stretch. And if proven, that is when the smallest of ideas that you might of had laying in bed while watching your ceiling fan go round and round could finally turn into a Fact. Something that can never be taken away. It can be hidden, pushed aside, made sure no one with the wrong clearance can see, Confidential. But a fact is never false. It never lies to you, doesn't lead you into the wrong direction wasting so many years wondering why when you wished you weren't even asking yourself questions in the first place. And now i have the decisions to either resolve my answers or leave me even more clueless. Perplexed under a complex reich. The best any of us could ever do, including myself is to fight. I need some sort of neuron blockade, so if some line, some statistic, destroys my psyche and rips my emotions in half and leaves me, that event could never occur. I could just read the statistic then say to myself "Wow that is awful." Then jot down some thoughtful note piecing it together with some other arbitrary statistic. I some how need that.
Realizing my last request was somewhat drastic and absurd I managed to move on. To deal with the pain mentally is to overcome the pain physically.Ripping open the cardboard package with as much anticipation as if it was Christmas morning. With all the pressure built up and my un-even tearing continued, the articles leap from the torn cardboard with enough velocity to knock down a wall. I leap to my feet and quickly re-organize the periodicals into order of acquaintance. That being done, i try to decide which one i will read first. Scanning my options, "The Statistics and the Occulum" seemed like a bold choice to start off my introduction to the Occulum. It was layered with garble and defining words. A terrible beginning book so i move onto the next one. "What the Occulum could do for all of us" seemed like an optimistic foresight. A great ending to the series of articles. It will help me weigh the judgment from the other two with un-bias parallelism. The good nature to the book will keep my neutrality to the subject at a balanced level. I decided i will start with "What in the hell is an Occulum?", short journalistic ponderings made by Francis Louis who, by reading the sidebar has recently passed away. This will help me understand my subject, let me get to know its capabilities and finally answer my question on why it was made. Finally, it is time to sit down and take out the journal.
After opening up the first few pages, i come to understand that the Occulum was made for auto-synchronization. To keep the world (first testing began in America) in the same loop so no one was left out and for everyone to receive the same information given by the same source. Also the Occulum has a few applications in the beginning phases. First it starts with the updates. Every night, after you go to sleep it senses the alleviation of tension from your eyelids and scans for updates which are worked on daily. Some fix some technical difficulties others send you new applications. Nothing is controlled physically by the users but un-consciously decided by constantly through neurological brain reasoning by the "participant." But the automated system, known as the Occolate, can override an un-just judgment if such enhancement would particularly benefit such "participant." Basically, the owners of the Occulum which is the Sovernment viably controls the epicenter of any human that actively and freely receives an Occulum. They begin to be the puppet-master to our brains if we let them. So far, the Occulum is on a trial basis and no one is mandatorily drafted to commit to it.
The second chapter revolves all around the technology and the procedure to receive one. All anyone has to do is provide their international social security card and introduce themselves. Next comes the surgery. The Occulum is only made up of very light metals (the article does not go into great detail since most of the information is confidential) and fits around the left eye and proceeds along the head and wraps around the ear. It is inserted into the eye and does not cause discomfort or strains. It enhances your eye to see what other "antique" eyes could see. Since any technology needs a basis to exist and profit, there has been one downside. Advertisements. 3-D advertisements that scan your hobbies, likes and anything that causes your dopamine levels to hit a standard guideline, known as the "pleasure levels."
It is all quite scary. Technology can print you a book, bring you a book, read you a book and then technology can do this. Its all a give or take situation, They can give you something, on-stage it looks awesome. Gives you improved functionality, make life easier and tasks simpler. But in the end, everything takes. They make money off of you, read your thoughts, construct ideas and deliver them to you without a notice. Then after you have such piece of technology, you become depressed. You look into it, realize it is not what it is all cracked up to be. You paid X amount of money or time and Y, which is always greater than X, was hidden from you. Defeatism sets in and your stuck with a vampire-ish electronics device that keeps you awake at night, thinking of what your life could/would of been without it. When did technology become such a stepping stone in our existence where an instrument can leave us with such emotional distraught? Life is just one big movie. Expensive sets, clothing designs, famous people. Everything you like to hear about an watch and finally it's your big moment. You are all giddity, nervous and fragile waiting for those few seconds of personal worth. And all we are...are the god damn stand in actors.
When the documents arrive, it's not like a mailman comes and knocks on your window to make sure you home and to check up on you. The personality is all gone when you take away the uniform and grind down the old man's face to sheet metal. It just comes then puts whatever it is carrying that day into it's designated location and off it goes. Watching all of this happen, while remembering living when being a mailman was an actual profession doesn't sit right. All small-end communications has been thrown through the window for the slightest convenience.
That bonding that you share with a total stranger through honest small talk inevitably knowing you'll never meet again. Time never stops but, in all our interests we as a nation want to get the most out of each and every second. Their is no more savoring or enjoying. But we love to relax. Most people must just do something because supposedly it feels right even though they, personally, are not interested in what they are partaking in. An identity hardly exists anymore. People rather have their doors shut than opened up to the public. It would be thoughtless to keep your defenses down. No one wants to get into arguments anymore, we have strong opinions but, to argue over it would be hasty. Sometimes, all i ask for, i want someone to stir up the melting pot. First you need assimilation before you can have silence.
After the mailot dropped off his packages, i courteously reached into the drop box to obtain my three freshly printed articles. I was excited. But i was afraid of what might lie ahead. Not only can swords crush their foes but to kill quietly, you must use words. Words to form an idea. Then a simple spark, the idea, can be tossed around like sweaters gathering more and more information to evolve into a Theory. Theories get tested vigorously while everyone involved weighs out the options, the knowledge and the intellect gained by such a stretch. And if proven, that is when the smallest of ideas that you might of had laying in bed while watching your ceiling fan go round and round could finally turn into a Fact. Something that can never be taken away. It can be hidden, pushed aside, made sure no one with the wrong clearance can see, Confidential. But a fact is never false. It never lies to you, doesn't lead you into the wrong direction wasting so many years wondering why when you wished you weren't even asking yourself questions in the first place. And now i have the decisions to either resolve my answers or leave me even more clueless. Perplexed under a complex reich. The best any of us could ever do, including myself is to fight. I need some sort of neuron blockade, so if some line, some statistic, destroys my psyche and rips my emotions in half and leaves me, that event could never occur. I could just read the statistic then say to myself "Wow that is awful." Then jot down some thoughtful note piecing it together with some other arbitrary statistic. I some how need that.
Realizing my last request was somewhat drastic and absurd I managed to move on. To deal with the pain mentally is to overcome the pain physically.Ripping open the cardboard package with as much anticipation as if it was Christmas morning. With all the pressure built up and my un-even tearing continued, the articles leap from the torn cardboard with enough velocity to knock down a wall. I leap to my feet and quickly re-organize the periodicals into order of acquaintance. That being done, i try to decide which one i will read first. Scanning my options, "The Statistics and the Occulum" seemed like a bold choice to start off my introduction to the Occulum. It was layered with garble and defining words. A terrible beginning book so i move onto the next one. "What the Occulum could do for all of us" seemed like an optimistic foresight. A great ending to the series of articles. It will help me weigh the judgment from the other two with un-bias parallelism. The good nature to the book will keep my neutrality to the subject at a balanced level. I decided i will start with "What in the hell is an Occulum?", short journalistic ponderings made by Francis Louis who, by reading the sidebar has recently passed away. This will help me understand my subject, let me get to know its capabilities and finally answer my question on why it was made. Finally, it is time to sit down and take out the journal.
After opening up the first few pages, i come to understand that the Occulum was made for auto-synchronization. To keep the world (first testing began in America) in the same loop so no one was left out and for everyone to receive the same information given by the same source. Also the Occulum has a few applications in the beginning phases. First it starts with the updates. Every night, after you go to sleep it senses the alleviation of tension from your eyelids and scans for updates which are worked on daily. Some fix some technical difficulties others send you new applications. Nothing is controlled physically by the users but un-consciously decided by constantly through neurological brain reasoning by the "participant." But the automated system, known as the Occolate, can override an un-just judgment if such enhancement would particularly benefit such "participant." Basically, the owners of the Occulum which is the Sovernment viably controls the epicenter of any human that actively and freely receives an Occulum. They begin to be the puppet-master to our brains if we let them. So far, the Occulum is on a trial basis and no one is mandatorily drafted to commit to it.
The second chapter revolves all around the technology and the procedure to receive one. All anyone has to do is provide their international social security card and introduce themselves. Next comes the surgery. The Occulum is only made up of very light metals (the article does not go into great detail since most of the information is confidential) and fits around the left eye and proceeds along the head and wraps around the ear. It is inserted into the eye and does not cause discomfort or strains. It enhances your eye to see what other "antique" eyes could see. Since any technology needs a basis to exist and profit, there has been one downside. Advertisements. 3-D advertisements that scan your hobbies, likes and anything that causes your dopamine levels to hit a standard guideline, known as the "pleasure levels."
It is all quite scary. Technology can print you a book, bring you a book, read you a book and then technology can do this. Its all a give or take situation, They can give you something, on-stage it looks awesome. Gives you improved functionality, make life easier and tasks simpler. But in the end, everything takes. They make money off of you, read your thoughts, construct ideas and deliver them to you without a notice. Then after you have such piece of technology, you become depressed. You look into it, realize it is not what it is all cracked up to be. You paid X amount of money or time and Y, which is always greater than X, was hidden from you. Defeatism sets in and your stuck with a vampire-ish electronics device that keeps you awake at night, thinking of what your life could/would of been without it. When did technology become such a stepping stone in our existence where an instrument can leave us with such emotional distraught? Life is just one big movie. Expensive sets, clothing designs, famous people. Everything you like to hear about an watch and finally it's your big moment. You are all giddity, nervous and fragile waiting for those few seconds of personal worth. And all we are...are the god damn stand in actors.
i love the description in every line. just read this from start to finish and im diggin it. it has so many memorable lines. really made me think about shit
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