<a href="http://incidient.site/4%20Dead%20After%202%20Motorcyclists%20Collide%20In%20Orange%20County.doc">Tragic news about the site moderator</a>.
The spirit of the universe was nowhere to be found
and we had charted light years of starways
through quiet dust-strewn blankets of forever dark
to find ourselves run out of road,
staring but into ancient void
There is nothing, we relayed
as we made to pull the plug
for there was nothing to stay on for
When the stardust-clad darkness gazed into us
as does a cliff into the mountaineer
breathed into our forgotten souls
I am here.
And we stood and watched,
explorers floating in deep space calm,
until I can remember no more.
Are you there yet?
Have you reached the stratosphere?
Look out, look out of your porthole
Tell me what you see
Is your space capsule given up
to the beautiful rolling blanket of stars
Is there peace
Or just handfuls of cold emptiness
To betray our quiet dreams of growing up
Is there peace, explorer
Can you bring back a sample
They put us on the blue one, we made it to the grey
Stop and watch the blue one now
gets redder every day
Do I care any more what sense I make to them
Just my footsteps echo in the landing crater
And a universe of hope
Looking up at the rise
Of our great majestic blue
Against a starfield of aeons
Just this one time, explorer
Turn off your cabin lights and listen to my voice
Interrupt your sequence and look out the porthole
Is there a different beauty there, a different truth
Or are you going away through hallways of starlight
Explorer, do you copy?
photo c/o Jeremy Geddes
to the Age of Light
to the blinding digital paradise.
and ye shall receive
the spoils of our technologies.
and the world arrives
for your entertainment on primetime.
Make a wish
to our shopping malls
anything you dream, we’ve got it all.
to the power and freedom of the Future Age.
Give the word
Sit back and watch the world obey.
Just one word
I almost forgot.
With all good things there’s always a catch.
you think you exercise
was never yours, just open your eyes.
It’s the Market
and guess what, they’re manufacturing you.
you know the holy command
and submit to the power of the Future Age.
nobody gets hurt if you just obey.
Look out to the sea of faces,
as the all-fulfilling structure
enslaves and drugs our minds.
Here’s calling out to the ones who still
have the power to disbelieve.
You are the architects of our future
Step forth into the light.
This is your time
Lead us to the Age of Questions.
Come take the helm
and guide us to a new horizon.
Rise to the glory
Of blood, sweat and tears of pride.
You are the one.
The eyes of time are turning on you.
‘I’m going away.’
This text reached seven people within a few minutes of half past two in the night of the last Tuesday of September, 1999.
All of them had been sent simultaneously from a cell phone number that switched off two minutes later.
With that, Edward commenced the process of witnessing his own death. And the effect of his death on the people around him. Relatives, friends, lovers, haters.
Edward wanted to find out what he really meant to people and what they inwardly thought of him. Realizing that his existence was an unavoidable hurdle in this evaluation, he had finally decided to take himself out of the equation.
Nobody had ever done this before, because nobody was sure they could hide today in a world so small for the rest of their life. But Edward had spent time working it all out.
As the phone sank into the cold midnight waters of the Pacific, Edward walked away from the moonlit beach, a bleak, unremarkable figure, receding slowly into the late night drizzle, giving himself up to the waiting darkness of the forest.