Sensibilium Blog

I look up from my sprawled papers blankly. What is he looking at? Why is he of all people here? He should've stayed in my dreams. This is too much. Too much too much. My papers can collect themselves if they want to. I walk away and don't look back. We're out of time and I'm killing time. I walk by a sports bar and glance inside before turning around and into the front door. What am I doing here? I came here before. Memories of things called friends pull themselves up out of the back of my mind before I push them back down. Trust is a flaw I recite as if I am reading it from a poster. There's a gremel sucking the soul out of a hooker beside me as I sit down, and I close my eyes.
When I open them up again, there are five grey things with large back eyes and giant heads looking at me. They're looking at my tits. I close my eyes again and when I open them up I am in my bed. My butt hurts and I am covered in sweat. I want to scream but all that comes out is a slow quiet moan. It is time to get ready.
The anal probe comes out with my stool. I wonder what they would want that for when I remember curiosity killed the cat. I don't want to be the cat. I aim ready and fire slicing up the logs of waste like a space samurai pirate lord. And then flush. The person I assume to be Ron walks in to the washroom while I am letting the water shower me clean. He flushes the toilet and I ignore the drop in pressure, the increase in temperature. I watch for the anomalies in the data stream as it pours down my body.
Tlktlktlktlktlktlk
I clock in and scrub my eyes. Numbers letters and arcane symbols representing abstract values float through the data stream. I am looking for anomalies in the potential waveform system. Systems are rarely closed, and susceptible to outside influence. When an anomaly becomes apparent, I press the red button. I press it now and a voice says thank you in a pleasant manner. I say to the voice your welcome without taking my eyes from the stream. If I miss the anomalies the dream will die and the voice will not be thankful.
The supervisor taps me on the shoulder and talks to me. She says to look at her when I am speaking to her. She comes back 35,673 lines later and tell me I missed 37 anomalies on the lines that I was looking at her when she was talking to me, and that I was to go home and not come back. Waveforms collapsed. Potential events lost potential and ceased to have a chance at existence. I stared at the glow tiles on the ceiling as the sun crawled it's way across them.
There were soldiers on the street when I went outside again. Tolchoks were eying their spines hungrily, waiting to reach out from the spaces between at the right moment and take their fill. I stopped to look at the poster and read it to myself aloud, “This never happened”. This seemed like the most important thing I had ever come across as I walked to the back of the line. They were serving tofu and refried beans again today. The tofu was formed into the shape of fish and served with tartar sauce. We were supposed to pretend the tofu was fish I supposed. I pretended it was vegetable matter instead and dug in, savouring every flavourless but highly nutritious bite. The boy next to me looked at me with shock as if he had heard my thoughts, and it wasn't until I looked back that I saw it was him again. How did he manage to survive I wonder? His existence must be strong to make it here and still exist.
I stopped her in the hall ad the words came spilling out. I told her everything and it was like she was hearing my thoughts. She looked at me blankly then walked away. We were not integers, which were assigned to one another. This would only add complex reciprocals to the waveform equations, which would in turn create unwarranted potentials, and endanger everything. Absolutely everything.
I put it out of my mind and forgot about everything as I sat down at my station and focused on the numbers letters and arcane symbols representing abstract values. I could no longer recognise the numbers and letters for being what they were, so I imagined them to be arcane symbols them – representing abstract values in the wave form. They all flowed by, right to left, bottom to top. Eddies and currents, which together formed the basis of reality on paper. But there was no paper here.
Sometimes the eddies formed into holes, and that's when I pressed the red button to let them know I'd found an error in the process. Then a voice would say thank you in a pleasant manner and I would silently mouth your welcome so the supervisor wouldn't send me to the incinerator for termination. Existence was perilous here, even without the imminent collapse of the state vectors resulting in possible contamination of the What Is and What Will Be. The textures were peeling off their surfaces now, but I ignored that and watched the sun crawl across the glow tiles on the ceiling as I pretended to sleep. The sleep was a lie, but when I sat watching the corners breath, my bunk mate became agitated and would begin yelling at me why was I doing that why didn't I sleep why didn't I go to bed why wasn't I normal. I know he was just trying to show he cared I knew this because I could hear his thoughts. I ignored them and let them slide into the sea of sounds of other people's thoughts as they bounced and bent against the sound dampening walls and glow tiles.