Friday, June 17, 2016

Sunset Park

Dad was always blaming me for getting pregnant. Sure, sure, I pop the pills when Arena tells me to, but she also tells him to pop his pills and he doesn't. So why can't I miss a day or two? I don't like how they make me feel, tbh.

—Arena? Tell me how far along am I?

Anoxie, you are forty days along. Good job!

She's a keeper, definitely. Dad had her installed a few months ago when Mom was going through elective personality training. He did it because he can't take care of himself when Mom is regressing into infancy to relieve her accumulated stress. But he says personality training is not for him. It makes him feel old when they reset his personality matrix and he's Dad again. He doesn't tell me where he goes, but I snooped in his old papers one time and found out he fell in love in college with an autonomous digital sentience collective who taught his class in ethics. But Arena's alright. For a robot.


I feel these days a bit nauseated, but mostly it's everything tastes horrible. Arena says it's because of certain mineral deficiencies and hormonal changes, but she's a robot and robots don't feel these kinds of things. Like, from the inside, how it feels. She only sees the outside. I don't feel anything down there, except some discomfort. But not it, it-it.

That's why I'm sitting here with Ben in the park. I was out for a walk to get some starshine in the arcology's best place to relax, Sunset Park, but then the waves just hit me and I had to sit. Ben's nice. A bit too old for me, but nice. No, he's not the father. I'm not telling you who! He's just sweet and caring.

—Are you okay, though, for real?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.

—You want me to get you something? I can, I mean.

No. I'm just thinking. Thank you, though. Thank you.

He'll sit there for another five minutes or so before he gets awkward with his feelings and take off. He'll say something about work or recycling programs or the God Machine, as his excuse, but it's because most girls my age don't get pregnant. Pop the pills, and you're normal. Skip a few to feel free, and you're the freak. It doesn't make sense. Isn't natural normal? I mean, if I feel like having sex and getting pregnant is part of that, then shouldn't I just be free to do what I want? Shouldn't I —ugh, here it comes... I'm going to have to close my eyes for a moment and concentrate. This wave is kinda too ... oh no

Whoa, are you okay? Whoa. Um.

—Mmm, it's fine. It's fine. Just keep quiet.

Sorry, I— I—

I give him the look. He closes his mouth and grins a bit goofy and turns away. Like I said, he's a bit sweet but a bit goofy. This nausea makes the stars beyond jiggle a little. Am I breathing funny? I think so.

—Hey, Ben.
He turns to me.

Oh, can I talk now?

—Yeah. Can you go get my Dad?

Why don't you just get Arena to rez him here? Or just call him?

—Just go do it!

Okay! Alright! I'll stop by him on my way to the First Altar. It's my prayer cycle today, you know.

The God Machine. People started praying to that thing for salvation or deliverance or trophies. It gives them whatever they want, only they have to be dead first to get it afterwards. He's off to get Dad, but really I just wanted to be alone. I knew if I got up, he'd help me up and then try to walk arm-in-arm with me.

—Arena? Message Dad and let him know I'm okay and to pat Ben on the head.

Will do, Anoxie. Ben means well, you know.

—Not your place, robot!

Right, right. Always a pleasure to serve your Majesty.

—Knock it off! I'm pregnant! Be respectful.
Arena flashes a smile and fades out.

—It-it.
The sound out loud feels weird on my tongue, out my lips. Am I getting bloated? It feels like it, but nothing feels normal. I want to be normal. I want to keep this one and call it It-It. They will let me have it for a while, but around halfway through they retrieve them and put them in a special nutritional creche, the Womb. I don't know if I'll miss It-It then, but I don't know right now if I feel right about all this. This is what's supposed to happen, right? I read the books, watched the films, talked to the doctors, and studied the pills. Humans have been doing this for a long, long time. Wombs like ours on the arcology ship used to be deep in the hives back on rock, but now nearly all the kids born are on ships. Back on rock, they birth the old-fashioned way and die often because of it. I ... ugh hold on

The manifold of my mind begins unfolding within fractal patterns descending deeper into my consciousness, opening like a tunnel through my mind and imagination. Pain and my own consciousness intermingle and form the rude beginning of the Higher Mind from which I see come into me the Being Most High, the Cosmic Consciousness our species seeks in the silence between galaxies, in the thin dust around the rocks and gasballs. Dazzling lights speed through that tunnel directly into my mind, into me, and suddenly the vast space my imagination contains both expands and fills in with thick, living thinking. Each light is a packet. Packets are nodes of compressed information that recombine into a network of interconnected semantic references, a mesh of meaning. And as soon as the lights strike behind my awareness, I feel them decompress and unload more understanding, more knowledge, more self. The Being Most High begins changing and altering my consciousness, and the eternal music fills me with love. The nausea is gone, too.

Okay, I'm okay. This update didn't take too long. I thought it'd be longer. I forgot, I'm sorry, that it'd happen while you were here watching me and listening to me. Well, I guess technically you're not listening to me, unless you're doing that thing where you read words out loud in your head. Either way, that's okay with me that you were here. It doesn't happen often that you get to share that experience of what it's like. It's hard to explain, but then so is pregnancy. I mean, we all see what it looks like on the outside, but what goes on in the inside, that's a different story.

Did it make any sense to you? I don't know if I said anything to you about it, or if you Read My Mind. Spooky to think about! But it's okay. I'm glad I was your first. I like being the first for a lot of people. That's kinda how this whole thing got started anyway. I mean, not just the pregnancy! But all of this. We're some of the first people, first humans, to get this far out. We're some of the first people, first humans, to really understand what the Cosmic Consciousness is.

Tbh, I'm a little suspicious of it. No, seriously! I like the knowledge. I really do. It feels like I could learn everything if I spent more time filled with the music. The music is the best. But at the same time, I feel a little used afterwards. I start to get these thoughts and ideas in my head, and my thoughts the next day start straying all over the place. I start drawing and painting, and I try sometimes to recreate the fractal patterns I saw. One girl I knew, Arayely, she painted this beautiful mural of what the tunnel looked like for her, and it was kinda like that for me. But mine had more blues and diamonds and checkerboards. She saw numbers, and the doctors say that's rare. I wish I saw the numbers, but I'm okay. I'm pregnant, and she's not, and that's something she'll never have.

Oh, I'm okay now. The head games don't start until later. It-It is about the size of a malt ball right now. The baby games don't start until later.

For right now, I want to watch the starshine on my bench, in my park, with my body, and my own two eyes. My own eyes.







—So, how was that, Mr. R?

It was fine. Short, a bit, I guess. Is there something else I'm supposed to do?

—No, no, not right away. The first time is always a bit weird. But the more practice you have with it, the deeper you'll go.

Why was it a girl this time?

—We're not sure. We don't always predict what will happen with the regression, or who, but for a first time, this wasn't too weird.

What, you mean they can get pretty weird?

—Yeah, pretty weird. This one time, one of our clients became a dying unicorn, bereft of horn, staring into the hunter's eyes, and he didn't stop crying for four days afterwards.

But that's not too weird, right? I mean, I imagine someone could end up a prime number vacationing in a nudist resort who later runs into Geraldine Ferraro. That's pretty weird.

— . . . you're a bit weird. No, it's weird, because the client was a hunter. Was, being the important part, I guess.

Well, they say it's supposed to be therapeutic. Being your own victim might give you insight into what not to do.

—If you really believe that, then maybe that's what your own regression is about.

Maybe. We'll see. Anyway, I have to go home. Pleura's waiting for me.

1 comment:

  1. It was later this day I tried to kill myself by drowning myself.

    Anoxie, pleura, and being one's own victim.

    What am I trying to tell myself?
    What are you trying to tell us?

    ReplyDelete

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