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Monday, November 19, 2012

—Somnia Act 1: 2


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             Act I:2 in 


The person I previously got off the phone with was a woman by the name of Temperance. Kind in her words and even kinder in her footsteps, I feel that this simple woman could be something more to me, something more than a friend, someone special to my soul—if we even had souls. I feel that at least I do, the soul I mean. When you live your life by being told what to do—no existence of right or wrong because you have no choice—I feel that you would be unable to have a soul. It makes sense in theory but when you see this in the flesh you could only wonder what is the exact representation of a soul?

I normally view it as something that resides inside of you that tells you right from wrong and if you follow a determined path—whether it be right or wrong—you get your just deserved prize in some magic orb where souls congregate. I guess. But as I listen to what’s left of nature outside or even live in silence I could only think there is a soul there. I could be wrong but if that would be true then what I know about souls would be completely false. Maybe there is only one soul that consumes many objects and things or even one soul that is everywhere that could be seen? As I search for this in my higher education, my elders tell me that I am speaking some form of blasphemy—I cant get an answer from them because even the elders were created in the enclaves image so they can only know what everyone else knows and once your perfect like the rest, you no longer ask questions.      

I have figured throughout the years that I am a special breed that varies from the rest. Even though my life is the same, it is the exact same thing that makes me different from everyone else. The fact that I can think for myself rather than some self-sufficient programming that gets updated daily to tell me what to do, I had no programming though I never was actually born but produced like everyone else. I know this, no one else does. It may have been a mistake when I was created but then again, maybe the Enclave is well aware of me and this is just some kind of sick social experiment. Either way, I feel alone. I am one of a million, maybe one of the entire world; everything that appears to me is too big for this whole situation, I can't seem to handle it.

After I graduated from the mid level learning center I began to realize that my gift was unique and if I wasn't careful and if this really was a mistake, I might be forced to change so I had to blend in with the rest of society and that was to be perfect. Call it paranoia but in no way am i willing to change, whether it be better for me or not. Luckily for me, even though we were created to be human that doesn't mean we lack human qualities, thanks to that even because we are perfect we still make mistakes because that is just within our code. If I ever did make a mistake, it will just be seen as an error in my programming and I would be instantly forgiven but if many mistakes are seen regularly, well I haven't heard back from those who have.  

As for Temperance, however, she literally is perfect but not like everyone else. I've never seen her ever make a mistake the entirety of time I have known her and that’s been a hell of a long time. She sees me making mistakes regularly and she just smiles at me, then helps me with my problem. Its like she has seen it all, done it all even. She just wraps her arms around me from behind and guides my hands to correct whatever I did wrong and she whispers in my ear.

'Don’t feel bad. Everyone makes mistakes, even me.' She tells me. That’s not true, though I wouldn't ever dare calling her out on it. She is perfect in the exact sense and so is everyone else around her yet here I am. I feel broken sometimes but then I remember that I have my own talents and my own perseverance that could consume anyone whole, so it all balances out. Just once I would love to not make a mistake in a given day, just to prove to her that I am not all broken as I seem to be but I guess that comes with a free mind. As I talk to her, though she doesn't understand when I say 'free will', she acts as like she understands, like she was just like me but I know she isn't, she has all of the same characteristics in everyone else; happy, smart, talented, overwhelming. 

  
Now, I work at a factory that makes these little things known as phantasic sutures. In reality they are these little half inch round tubes that are about the size of a large needle that you implant into your body—regularly its the back of your neck--at first it hurts to install but if you keep the injection site in a central location it will eventually kill all the nerves in that location and it would feel painless. Being perfect gives you no joy in everyday life so these were created to quell any sort of uprising that might occur from frustration or lack of satisfaction—because we still are human. I know this because I am not stupid like everyone else here and it affects my body differently.

Imagine, as you will, a game, a game you cannot win. A game that makes you hate anything that steps in your path and you just want to rage for a good long while. This is what these things do. I know what your thinking, 'So how does this make you feel good?' well its simple really. In that split second that millions of emotions pump through your brain and you witness carnage of no other, you then return to the real world, which is perfect, which gives you an imaginary high to your life because you realize that things can be oh so much worse but this is all subconsciously. When an average person takes this they feel like they are on top of the world because hey, they don’t have to deal with real problems, pretty sick right?

If you read the label on the back of a box of twenty-five or fifty, it reads; Through the help of the Phantasic Suture, all of your senses will build into one and all will feel as if you were on a cloud--which is stupid. Then all at once, all of your problems will go away and you can enjoy bliss in its purity—which is a lie. Take multiple doses to feel additional effects--there actually are no effects at all. You cannot take to many Phantasic Suture's as they effect neural inhibitors and do not affect your blood stream—all right you got me there. Once done, take the remainder of the capsule and throw it away. Enjoy!

I feel a little puke going down my throat whenever I read anything on the box, just lies, every single inch of it. What about me? I feel something completely different. I can say that whenever I am forced to take one of the capsules—which are at least once a month, which is mandatory—I feel the exact opposite. Because I am well aware of all of these other feelings I can only feel dread and immediate regret whenever I take one. Hell, its even blasphemy if I don't take these things.

Now, I can say that I have this run of the mill assembly workshop job at the end of the conveyor belt putting all the final pieces together as a wear a yellow hard hat and safety glasses but those jobs have been obsolete since I was little. It’s all machinery now. To the tiniest tenth of a millimeter everything that the machines touch become perfect—anything anyone touches becomes perfect other than me. Even though I am capable of mistakes it is nearly impossible for me to make any at my position—which is a godsend. In fact I guess I could say that I am pretty high up in the executive chain of command because I am the backbone to the exact science of appearance to texture of every little bit that has to do with the capsules themselves, to the injectors all the way to the colour of packaging. 

It was my very own stroke of genius idea to turn the previous nano-injectors into capsules enabling a safer way to receive the additional chemicals—which we don't even need. I should feel proud but I don't. I should feel proud because before the nano-injectors sometimes pinched a vein and bruised the skin and sometimes infecting the entire arm. This however was an easy fix in the medical department because like everything else, it is perfect. The only difference it made was costs to those who had to pay the doctors and costs to the company and us as employees to avoid any legal troubles to the client who faced his own clever mistake because after all, we are still human—even if we are created in some test tube.

I did get a nice little raise though, just more money to my stack of money. I've read books on how people were poor or had financial troubles because they were addicted to tobacco products or alcohol or drugs, well that’s true now too but just because of the phatasic suture's. More times than not the damn things take up around a little more than half of a regular paycheck and to those who don't live of the phantasic devices? We roll in money.     
         



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