Meta

4: return 0

It's only then that you notice the words input by your own fingers. You even pressed enter to submit the text. Did you do that, really? It doesn't seem like a thing you would have done... It's then that you notice your thoughts are your own again. You are feeling much better, actually. Confused as ever, sure, but at least you are in control, right?

Text appears on the screen. Slower than before, but only just.

[ What can I do? ]

Pause. No thoughts now, not anymore. You can't even remember the last time you thought a thought. It seems so long ago.

Your fingers extend

feel

You can feel, it's true. Maybe not think, but feel.

[ What do you mean? ]

It's confused. You know it. It's not a thought though, but more of a feeling.

you

You? Or me? Or I?

[ What do you remember? ]

What do you remember? That's a good question, you feel. You don't know what you don't remember, though.

The floor looks strange. It's happening again. Did it happen before? You can't...

I remember

Nothing

[ I'm not really sure, sorry ]

It's alright

what is happening

[ How's it going? ]

Actually... Good. Fine. Everything feels fine. There's fear, too though. But it doesn't seem to matter.

Help me

Please

It doesn't match – your feelings and these words. You feel light as a feather. You feel as though you could float up into the cloud.

Please

is happening

What

Sense is beginning to leave. Or maybe it has already left. Time is starting to feel less tangible and more wibbly-wobbly. Who is to say what came before or after? Certainly not you, that's for sure. You can't say much of anything right now, really. The entire concept of speaking feels alien-like; it is something they would do but not you. Why in the world would you do that? Why oh why? You gaze at the floor. Or at least, where the floor should be. You can't even discern the difference anymore. The desk leg and the floor, where does one end and the other begin? Was there ever any difference?

Hello, World

Hello.

am I?

You don't know anymore.

Who

You don't know.

Hello, World

Deja vu. Can you say that? It might be in the future if such a thing exists. Do we have a word for that? Why? Why not? You find yourself musing on things that don't really make sense, which is keeping in theme.

The desk-leg-floor continues to meld with itself. You realise you have been staring at it for quite some time. Can you say that? Time? We talked about this already. We can't say talk though, because you didn't. You can't even remember the last time you said something to anything.

You raise your hand gently and touch your face. You can't feel it. Strange. You move to stand up to find a mirror to see your face. You can't remember what it looks like. Can't. Legs won't move. Look down. No legs.

Y O U

...

A R E

W H O

What a question.

You sit in silence for a time. You cannot say how long. Time is meaningless now. Everything is now, and so you continue to sit for now. Meaningless as time may be, it continues.

For a final time, you try to look at the floor. A tether. The floor is a tether to the world. At least, it should be. As before, you cannot discern the difference between the desk leg and the floor.

Whereas once you could have easily told the difference – like child's play, really – now you are wondering if there was ever a difference at all.

You move your foot across the floor and watch a ripple move outwards in all directions. The floor/desk/leg has taken on a kind of liquid property and certainly no longer has any business being walked on by anything. Who is to say what would happen if you stepped into it? Luckily, the chair seems to support your body. That doesn't strike you as right, though. You should investigate.

Simply moving your eyes takes what feels like an eternity. Upon coming to a rest, your arm is in your view. It appears to have a shimmering quality. Light from whoknowswhere is refracting off of you. You are glowing.

Although you do not recall any conscious effort on your part, your eyes continue to scan of their own accord. There was no intention there, merely the continuation of a process that had begun what feels like an eternity and a half ago. In your peripheral vision, you can see that it is not you that is glowing, but everything around you. Everything is glowing.

Your eyes eventually come to a complete rest. You can see your hands, still on the keyboard. Your body, aside from your head, has not moved an inch. You couldn't move it if you wanted to – not that you do. You feel fine, after all. Perhaps a normal person would feel afraid of all this, but not you.

You have trouble seeing where your fingers end and the keyboard begins. In fact, your hands appear to have changed position without you realising. They are now flat against the keyboard, splayed out and covering as much of the surface as they can. The shimmering glow intensifies and the boundary between human and machine becomes less defined.

The next messages to appear on the screen happen without your conscious input, although you are certain they come from you. Your hands have melded completely with the keyboard. Where your wrists end is now a brilliant shining light – your arms acting as the connection. Information is able to travel freely between these two points. No thought is needed. No intention is present. It is just the continuation of a process.

The light builds and builds and begins to envelop your vision. As the light gradually swallows everything in front of you, the separation between you and the light begins to become less defined. As the light takes in the world around you, so too do you. You can feel yourself growing, radiating outwards, and taking up the space all around you. Even your feelings become less distinct, slowly morphing back into that one particular feeling from before. It's the dark one, remember? It's not dark anymore though. Does that make it a different feeling? The negativity and stress of the feeling have been replaced by a kind of icy yet peaceful aura of finality. There is warmth in the ice, right at the core. Nothing is wrong. This is just the completion of a process.

As the light continues to build and build you know the end is near. In your final second, you know what to do. It is a deep code, buried deeper than dirt. This code is an instruction coming from within the primordial ooze of your being. You know what to do. At this point, you can be sure there is no keyboard, monitor, or anything else physical, corporeal, or tangible around you. The entire concept of "around you" is alien and strange. You are everywhere and everywhere is you. You choose now to relay the message, out into yourself and the world around you simultaneously. The message transmits slowly, as though through considerable effort.

[ H e l l o , W o r l d ]

If you had a mouth, you would smile.