returnofthecutecel
Luminary
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2025
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Numbers and letters, flowing, creeping, blasting off, scattering like a camp of criminals being pulled up on by a police car blaring its siren while the driver aggressively gags any hope of escape by ordering his entire precinct to shoot on sight. John. Joseph. Robert. Augustine. Ariel. Margaret. Marian. Marion. The names, escaping how they’d ever be uttered by another human mouth. Into the peace and harmony of never having being thought up at all.
Perry pressed the key and it was soft to the touch, almost leathery, but somehow also firmly intact. The key, once pressed down, activated a series of code that flashed a green-blue hue on the screen. And each time the key landed densely into its indented home, another life was extinguished from the bodily prison’s motions, referred to as “life”. It wasn’t death. It wasn’t murder. It was a merciful act, and under the new law, Carrie’s Burrow, it was even seen as noble. To extinguish the banal routine. To forever rid the mind of its burden of being aware of itself. To hammer the final nail into the coffin of being. He envied the names. He envied the semblance of peace. The only thing that kept him from losing himself was coping with the fact that despite their unexistences appearing as true bliss and peace, they weren’t experiencing it, because they weren’t they. Their perceived peace can only be appreciated by someone like him, who, in more than a couple ways, suffered from life. They were no longer who they once were for they were removed from the pool of the birthed. No peace could ever be felt by them because a being who doesn’t exist can no longer feel. The following day, every trace of them having being born would be wiped from the planet.
The program, costing several million dollars, was out of Perry’s future. He’d never be able to input his name into the system and become who he’d always wanted to be, an erased name. But, working at the plant, pressing the button, seeing the names flash, seeing the birth certificates vanish, it was the closest he could ever get to true peace. The names themselves never felt a smidgen . This was how he could finally “get” life. A vicarious existence lived through the eyes of the non-born.
Perry pressed the key and it was soft to the touch, almost leathery, but somehow also firmly intact. The key, once pressed down, activated a series of code that flashed a green-blue hue on the screen. And each time the key landed densely into its indented home, another life was extinguished from the bodily prison’s motions, referred to as “life”. It wasn’t death. It wasn’t murder. It was a merciful act, and under the new law, Carrie’s Burrow, it was even seen as noble. To extinguish the banal routine. To forever rid the mind of its burden of being aware of itself. To hammer the final nail into the coffin of being. He envied the names. He envied the semblance of peace. The only thing that kept him from losing himself was coping with the fact that despite their unexistences appearing as true bliss and peace, they weren’t experiencing it, because they weren’t they. Their perceived peace can only be appreciated by someone like him, who, in more than a couple ways, suffered from life. They were no longer who they once were for they were removed from the pool of the birthed. No peace could ever be felt by them because a being who doesn’t exist can no longer feel. The following day, every trace of them having being born would be wiped from the planet.
The program, costing several million dollars, was out of Perry’s future. He’d never be able to input his name into the system and become who he’d always wanted to be, an erased name. But, working at the plant, pressing the button, seeing the names flash, seeing the birth certificates vanish, it was the closest he could ever get to true peace. The names themselves never felt a smidgen . This was how he could finally “get” life. A vicarious existence lived through the eyes of the non-born.
