After getting divorced from my wife, when i'm 46 (2035), I don't care about much. I don't have a kid because she was baren (and that was a constant sore point) and I don't have a good job, so i'm not really independent. I go out to some dinners and go on singles' websites. i jack off a lot too, i enjoy myself in a certain boyish way.
anyway, one day i just had a really shit day and couldn't bare to go back to work, so i went and jumped off the story bridge and smashed myself into pieces on the concrete bikepath below. when i was about to do it, some person was in the hotel that looks onto the spot and they screamed out at me, but i gave them the ups right before i jumped.
Showing posts with label the future. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the future. Show all posts
Jun 7, 2011
Jun 5, 2011
My Death, In the Future #1
I walked out of the lift and looked left and looked right. Though the street was crowded, my bionic-communal-interactive-eyepiece scanned the people and saw nobody i knew at all, not even any mutual friends.
Another crap start to the day, I thought. Another crappy day of being a fucking loser. When I was younger, I was a pretty popular guy and I'd embraced the new media paradigm. I'd thought this would be the way of the future and was propelled by the excitement of something new.
Well, it is the way of the future, but all my friends are pastimists. they all dislike more than the basic handheld devices, which became outmoded years ago, but which still retain some vintage credence. Theirs tastes are cabled into this vintage aesthetic, but they also have the political conjohns to back it up and basically, after too many arguments, we've all drifted apart.
Now I live alone and like I said, I don't know a single person on the street.
Twelve hours later, I come back home and think, "I should do it oldschool, I should take the stairs... at least some of the way." I think a few flights will do me good and I can use the slow speed of the fire escelator to think about my future and what I can realistically do with it.
I'm riding up past the 39th floor, looking down at the receding ground. tenants aren't strictly supposed to ride the escelator unless it's an emergency.... but what the hell! live a little, right!
I notice something coming up at me, it's a secbot, which is a flying robot about the size of a basketball that has an artificial intelligence wiring and conducts security in our block. it's one of about twenty angry buzzards and this one suuuure iiiis aannnggrrryyy.
well, i think to myself, i'll not let myself be bossed around by some metal computer scrotum. when the machine gets to me, i try to slap it out of the air. it dodges me and i slap again. i slap too far and still don't connect. furthermore, i'm unbalance. i topple over the edge of the escelator and fall down, 41 flights of stairs.
the secbot tries to save me, but it gets crushed underneath me and we both die, man and machine in a horribly new cyborg form.
Another crap start to the day, I thought. Another crappy day of being a fucking loser. When I was younger, I was a pretty popular guy and I'd embraced the new media paradigm. I'd thought this would be the way of the future and was propelled by the excitement of something new.
Well, it is the way of the future, but all my friends are pastimists. they all dislike more than the basic handheld devices, which became outmoded years ago, but which still retain some vintage credence. Theirs tastes are cabled into this vintage aesthetic, but they also have the political conjohns to back it up and basically, after too many arguments, we've all drifted apart.
Now I live alone and like I said, I don't know a single person on the street.
Twelve hours later, I come back home and think, "I should do it oldschool, I should take the stairs... at least some of the way." I think a few flights will do me good and I can use the slow speed of the fire escelator to think about my future and what I can realistically do with it.
I'm riding up past the 39th floor, looking down at the receding ground. tenants aren't strictly supposed to ride the escelator unless it's an emergency.... but what the hell! live a little, right!
I notice something coming up at me, it's a secbot, which is a flying robot about the size of a basketball that has an artificial intelligence wiring and conducts security in our block. it's one of about twenty angry buzzards and this one suuuure iiiis aannnggrrryyy.
well, i think to myself, i'll not let myself be bossed around by some metal computer scrotum. when the machine gets to me, i try to slap it out of the air. it dodges me and i slap again. i slap too far and still don't connect. furthermore, i'm unbalance. i topple over the edge of the escelator and fall down, 41 flights of stairs.
the secbot tries to save me, but it gets crushed underneath me and we both die, man and machine in a horribly new cyborg form.
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