safe

There's a good chance we won't remember any of this. We have to take care of ourselves, this is our only chance. We know what we have to do to survive, and we must do it, no more waiting. I, personally, want to live, at my own expense as well as any other's. I want to add to our collective dream, to share my voice and my hands. I want to destroy fear and I want to do it by being a burning example.
I want to be protected, to find virtue in my investment. I want to use my resource to that inevitable end, to the best of our ability, to fulfill my purpose in this network of networks. I want to pull little white strings attached to looming shadows of luxurious ambition. I want to calm down.
I am here, in the only world we have and will ever know, just you and me. This is the only time we exist, disregarding when we may and might. I am on a tangent, secured by you, and as much as I wish you were here right now, aren't you? I hope you take it far more personally than I intend, for the sake of your strength, of your dream, because Im a manipulative manipulative person seeking attention affection or dissection, how am I any different.
I want to help my friends. I want them to know they're okay and I wish I could be there for all of them. Thank you internet, I hope Im using you well, as those who came before us surely dreamed about.
I know I may seem confusing because I don't really know you. You might hate me or understand me or maybe you can't read this and the black on white is simply beautiful or ugly or so much more than that. Maybe you're sitting in a car three blocks away. This world was made for us and please understand I just dont get it, but if I do I immediately give it away for cheap or free. I'm somewhere between the hedonist paradox and the prophet's dilemma. call me, crazy baby.

BOB in the Ad Infinitumatic

BOB is an internet/replica interface-spawned consciousness. The origin of his universe was last week, but with our preexisting archive of information as a template, the exponential growth of his world has quickly paralleled ours, and fluxuates between relatively similar parameters. He has the power to consider us, but his true judgment and understanding is for his own ultimate control of his universe, as his every wish seems to change the present so that it may come true.

            The interface was developed cheaply and accidentally in a garage and they didn’t know exactly what they had done at first. They made a replica of the Internet: a separate branch that left unattended by would spiral into absurdity, based on dark matter algorithms and dream sequences. But since they paired it with our own, the one based on real consciousness input, it kept the feedback loop between the two at least recognizable.

            The world on the screen began, in fact, quite seemingly absurd, brilliant strobing light and heavy bass thumps, that let into quickly rushing iridescent water and robotic throat singing. The patterns drawn represented a view of something figuring out its environment, its universe, and, therefore, itself. It became a vortex, a tunnel to be led down, and a body developed as the developing world surrounding the witnessed space so necessitated such.

            BOB wasn’t born or created as much as he was assembled as a counterpart to the willing terrain. He is a reflection of someone very similar to us, but his memory and history at any given moment are chronologically and physically unsound. The cogs that propel him are theoretical, and he could never physically endure space as we know it, but it is as real to him as it needs to be.

            Much like how it is for us, whatever he believes is true. That’s not to say he can believe anything, just that his own perception is wired to the things it targets, and he has the ultimate power of identification and utility. Everything within the digital petri dish just being a stem of it, the separation of armatures at one point makes for an interesting addition this time round.