i. Camille’s Providence
It is always the best state, to have time.
I’ve always noticed the disparity in the pant of a male. That triangle of space where it wouldn’t be on the ken doll version of him. The material meets the leg and caves in toward the crotch. What we don’t want to admit is a person under there. A less conforming entity. Than a doll anyway. Than a RealGurl. Or Boy.
I know that I’m only just waking. Up. I know that I am traveling here in the rivers of my dreams. There are no more dreams though. I’ve been sent to record it. From the human point of view.
RD AUTO Message: +-XXX, Fri 1, Octobre 2087 – Springfield, VA. Off-Line |
We are post history.
Too much to record. Style trumps, meaning trumps style, both are fused into one. But it is indeed recorded. We are indeed being recorded. Forever.
No way to bring it all to focus. Like how we overlook things. Like…
I am looking outside. There is light.
The white Sun melting through the trees.
Air again, still.
A familiar quality to it. The windows, her windows…were dry. Sepia room, light splintering through the NeauFan blades above. She turned her head on her pillow, laying there, once again spread out on the bed, contemplating the ceiling with straying Eyes.
Her mom’s lawn was outside, gray-green through the unwashed windows. Always unwashed. No Neau Tech, can’t afford it. Crescent Hill Drive and Jenny’s house down the road a bit, but she couldn’t see it.
There was a place and time that was Springfield Mall. When the dream of CAMBIAN was still alive…
She thought of C-iiiNOBuN, CAMBIAN’S Official State Bakery, USC sponsored, of course. They’d taken it from the French style when the original Founding Father in the 20XX’s had still been alive.
NeauMusic was on, barely throwing a few piano notes into the air, thick with NCense and a dark ViewHorizon of a Penthouse in New York City.
She’d never been there.
The light from her dresser was creeping out into the darks of her room. Blues, blacks, muted whites, sheets. It was early morning. Her mom hadn’t gotten up yet. A stern, yet soft, almost melodic Voice from the RadioWalls came on in the background…
“The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Finds The Learning Man Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can, The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was, The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Absorbs, The Learning Man Completes.”
“Planet Earth Is Blue,’ read a Neau brochure peeking out from…
“ArchStoneNeauDriven State Sponsored Apartment Housing Available!” the small magazine read. Then the UberVoice from her EmoReader began chanting a soft few phrases as if under Her breath…
BECOME A ‘LEARNING ENTITY’ AND TRANSFORM INTO A PROPERLY RETRIBALIZED ‘SOCIAL CITIZEN!’ – read a random generic CAMBIAN Ad on the back of a Jewish ZinePamphlet sitting on her bed with a few SoftSkynn TrannyDolls.
Jews themselves now a popular and recently official UFED UberGroup or ‘MicroGen.’ She didn’t care for ‘The Hebes’ really, though most of her friends when she was young were Jews before they all moved from her neighborhood, Crescent Forest.
“Let’s do this, okay, Victor, the Man of Total Involvement, of Total Awareness, absorbs everything around Him, the Running Man Runs, the Learning Man Learns, The Running Man Learns The Learning Man Runs…”
“Let’s do this, okay, Naomi: the WoMan of Total Involvement, of Total Awareness, absorbs everything around Her: the Running WoMan Runs, the Learning WoMan Runs, The Running WoMan Has And The Learning Man Does…”
The Running Man says this, about to do his morning Marathon. The CAMBIAN FIT WAT!
He repeats these lines to ‘Cast’ the NeauSpell over the Learning Software in his Brain to get better bicycle mileage. He knows that the wrong combination of wishing will get him the wrong muscle software configuration. This is a sposmodic discipline, the Life of the Learning Man.
He begins again…
“The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Finds The Learning Man Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Aborbs, The Learning Man Completes.
“The Learning Woman Thinks The Learning Woman Finds The Learning Woman Does The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Runs The Learning Man Thinks The Learning Man Does, The Learning Man Fucks The Learning Man Eats The Learning Man Has, The Learning Man Can The Learning Man Smiles The Learning Man Was The Learning Man Wants, The Learning Man Struggles, The Learning Man Wishes, The Learning Man Gets, The Learning Man Finds, The Learning Man Wounds, The Learning Man Aborbs, The Learning Man Completes. Himself.” The Learning Woman Runs, The Learning Woman Has, The Learning Man IS.”
Camille felt herself mezmorized by the Near-Hypnopaedic voice.
The Radio kept on…
“More Homeless SAVED from the streets by the CAMBIAN INFANTRY! Given Up? Join Up.”
Turned over in her bed. The white wash from the windows made her blink twice. “Oh shit, what am I gonna do about Kim?” Neasuea. Again. Fuck. She had to shit. “Gotta make bumper,” she exclaimed to her empty room. “Is there anything I can do?” asked Una. “Ah, wipe my ass.” There was no reply.
The wood of the bench kind of pinched her butt-cheeks when itty-bitty parts of her rear got caught between the slats. She was waiting for Blo-T, the next Transport out of Main-Line and into the gray area of now, Off-Line toward Springfield-Springfield. This was as opposed to the Oakland Community Springfield.
…Stay Tuned For More of ‘Springfield’ Tomorrow!
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