“Why are you so mean?” She asked from behind the memory banks. The conversation was never intended in the first place, so it was a bit strange to be talking while thoughts where all around flying free. The room was dark as it has always been, yet the flashing lights of flying thoughts provided more than enough illumination, allowing to see each others feelings. It’s all electric pulses we knew.
Not that is so important, after all we’ve been together since the beginning of the physical cycle, so we know each other very well. We just didn’t know it!
Her thoughts were there for me to see, while mine were hers. We talked for a moment, maybe more out the boring moment of doubt we always have when considering the reasons for a decision on who should keep the carrier through the end of the cycle.
We talked, while it wasn’t really needed since we used the same computer to create our personal calculations. We dreamed of what it could be if…
Yet we knew compromise should be the last word to keep.
Standing at the two ends of a circular room, where there are no ends to take place at, yet we were there, facing each other with our thoughts and feelings, pretending this was just another day and nothing would get recorder.
Get recorded? Everything gets recorded! Hers, mine, ours; every bit each one can bring to the memory banks; not to be of any use, we knew, but just because that’s the way things are. As if we could change anything by the weak power of a doubtful decision. All by the means of just collecting our personal memories and claiming to have the truth in our hands. Like pretending so to win, rather than logic supported by facts.
We knew we were wrong; both of us. Yet we new that could only mean we also have to be right, or there would be no purpose for the bringing of the room and the organic body it controlled.
I need to sleep! After more than two years sleeping an average of three hours a day I feel tired. The controlling of the vessel has became more difficult everyday, and the ghosts of duplication remain inside the control room, making me doubt of my own sanity.
What if the duplication is real? And why not! I’ve spent time talking with the duplication, especially because we are opposed, which means we still have a sick tendency to feel attracted to each other. So there is no such thing as duplication, but instead the veracity of the twin’s existence! And the control room supposed to be for only one, so very complicated situation when there are two wanting and needing one of the sides.
Then the sleepiness again! Feeling the eyes tired and the head slowly starting to tilt forward, maybe as a victim of the ocean sea all around. An ocean sea of doubts, confusions and unanswered questions; all to contribute their part in the destruction of harmony, softness and sanity, in a sick, permanent attempt to retain the stress of the whole situation. Me, a possible duplicate, and the control room. I wonder if they knew when childhood was all I could see around.
Make room for two instead of one; we are here anyway, so we better get comfortable; this incongruence will last until the end of the physical cycle; so we have to become friends!
Raul
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