Simstim Reality
Bemused, I glimpse a faint light across the horizon of
M31 galaxy. Forever, this spaceship is trap in a geometrical
space. Supernovae out there are like neon of light painted
in empty canvas of curvature space. I wonder what lies beneath
the finite space. Stars are like words in poetry and songs,
hidden optic jewels in the dark, metaphor of dreams.
Inside my room, I stare aimlessly. This is cave, I thought,
a surreal world unable to mirror itself in the vague idea
of existence. The suspended lamp from the corner gives a
gloomy shade of light. It adds a feeling of dread I can’t
feel. Cognitive egoism. This head: It’s the idea that
matters, not perception. This metallic head where my neural
architecture is an embedded microchip made up of silicon,
everything is a dream painted in an empty canvas. Tabula
rasa. My eye has an Optical Simulation Display, connected
in quantum chip through a microtubule semiconductor wire,
allowing me to create a computer graphic interface (CGI)
creating a visual augmented reality in my room.
Am I dreaming?
I saw no beauty in this cube. This modern antiquity is
holographic vision of classical architecture. Without the
holo-vision, its design is a dead space, a cold mindscape
of geometry and symbols.
This expedition is an influx of indefinable distress, I
thought. As though, the lack of essence in my room has caused
me a sudden nausea. It defiles my consciousness—information
saved through a quantum chip that is inserted in my bio-magnetic
brain. But what is consciousness anyway but an algorithm
between 1 and 0, a language waiting to be trigger in my ROM, “to
think” as flipping a coin. Is sadness a kind of word
without meaning? What’s its significance to my ego?
A kind of symbolism recognized only through my brain? The
chip inside this metallic skull is too cold, too numb.
Ah, the only living proof of my humanity is my consciousness.
But what if my memory is isn’t mine? A memory installed
as Basic Program Software in my microchip brain. What if
I exist only in the memory of someone I never met? What
if this consciousness is someone’s consciousness
that lived in the past?Say, a man who lived in
the past, before the new wave of Post-modernity Age.
No, it can’t be. I think, therefore, I am not? |
|
