j:Where am I?
q:The internet.
j:Where is that?
q:Nowhere and everywhere.
j:I don’t understand. I feel like nothing is solid. Where are the trees?
I feel like this is a different world. Are we dead? Are we still real?
q:How do you not understand this? Don’t you see the world we programmed? What we created?
j:I see nothing here.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Real World had become merely a place to live for her.
She didn’t feel like there was anything else for her there.
Here she could re-invent her awareness. Her attention to detail was particularly heightened. She could see and feel so much more.
There were of course a few people she missed, those that had a hard time finding her. But it was only a matter of time before everyone was here anyway.
Most of the artists have migrated already, and in a post-ironic way were remaking analog media here, compelling us to dream about a idealized version of our past.
She didn’t mind at all. It made her happy.
~Peace~