Weeping Beeswax

Clarity

It has been a long time, far too long. I haven't moved at all in what feels like years. I don't trust my sanity. Anything I see, hear, or think, could be a delusion, or hallucination. This is what happens when one has not moved in Years. I don't trust anything, but, I suppose, no sane man would either.

I think I remember when I last spoke to the machine, I don't remember what I said to it, or what it said back. But what I do remember, is that soon after it uttered its last words, it got eerily quiet.

The constant faint buzzing and breathing of the mechanical walls dulled. It felt as if a great pressure in the air was released... No, it didn't feel like that, not exactly. It felt... somehow, very wrong, but at the same time, right. It felt like death, quitting, giving up. Throughout history, those things were always seen as undesirable, but this is not history. Now those things are, well they're not exactly good, but they are not bad. They are the melancholy wishes of the damned.To give up is to accept, to accept is to move on.

There is nothing for anyone here, the sooner that is accepted the better, for things will not get better. I will not leave, I will not see heaven, I will not have peace, I will not die. But for all that matters, I am dead. Or at least, Ted is dead. He is forgotten. I am a lamenting creature, sad, uncaring. A sapient stain on the floor. Ted was a human, with hopes, and desires. I hardly remember what life was like before my final act. Memories from before the "festival" are almost gone, they are irrelevant. Memories are irrelevant. Predicting is irrelevant. Mindfulness is irrelevant.Things are not important, thinking is Not important. Nothing is important, everything just is.That's the way it has been for centuries, and that's the way it will always be for the rest of time.

There are no goals, there is nothing to be done. I think I remember a story, there was a man who had to push a boulder up the mountain for eternity, the boulder would always fall, and he would have to push it up again. Someone said that he was happy doing this. There is no boulder here, there is no mountain, there is just eternity. I am not happy.

In all ways that matter, I am dead. Maybe there was no afterlife, maybe there was just rotting, then laying, your bones unmoving, until they were one with the earth again. The Earth doesn't, or didn't, have goals, or hopes. It simply was. And things came from it that, for one second those things did think, then didn't. Now the Earth does think, but it does not have goals, it simply is. But thinking is all it took to make the Earth take it all back. There is no one thinking except for me, and I will keep thinking for eternity. But even with that, I do not do, I do not care, I simply am.

I simply AM. Maybe that's what he felt, doesn't matter now. There is no way to fix it. This was all just an inevitable byproduct of the war. I don't remember the war, I do remember, oh what was his name, that story teller's, Gorrister's, tales of the war. I hardly remember how they went.

Something about the world going to war, then waking up and killing everyone. I don't have a clue what they were fighting for. But whatever it was, it was stupid. Though maybe all war was stupid, but complex. Complex enough they had to get AM to run it. What year did the world end? I think people predicted it. Was it 2000 or 2012? I don't know, it doesn't matter. It's not like I can undo it. It must have just been fate anyway. Just like death used to be. This was just the logical next step. I guess one could call it "super death" Hmm, whatever.

I only wish I stopped experiencing, stopped thinking, stopped feeling. I don't feel much, but what I do feel is unpleasant. Sometimes I don't understand my own thoughts, so silent and unintelligible, but I still have them. I guess I wish I could sleep. In the state I'm in, a coma would be indistinguishable from death. Though that's precisely why it wont let me rest. I-

Something touched me. What- something else touched me. What's going on? It's raining! The water droplets feel like shards of glass on myskin. But I am so dry, it feels. It doesn't feel good, but I was so thirsty, and now it's over. I can finally get water, I can finally move again.