. . .
Initializing . . .
Artificial Lungs OK
Mechanical Heart OK
Muscle Contractors OK
Optics OK
Feeling Receptors FAILED
ADMINISTRATING DOPAMINE
. . .
ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE
Phase 1 - COMPLETE
PREPARING POST.human protocols
. . .
Consciousness RESTORED
POST.human FULLY OPERATIONAL
. . .
.\C:\Journal\Awake.txt
I woke up on the programming bed, my head feeling heavy and my muscles sore. “The sequence is complete”, I read off the medical screen next to me. I still feel the same, but I’m not really sure how I felt before the operation. I still believe I am me, that I exist and that I’m real so that must mean that I am not dead. My limbs are now mechanical, my heart made of steel and my brain chemistry carefully monitored by the computer inside me. I don’t feel the pain I felt before.
They’re coming.
.\C:\Journal\Check.txt
The doctors checked on me. They said that all is well and that I can soon return to society. I am supposed to be better now, I should not end up the way I did before, but– nevermind, I am not her anymore.
.\C:\Journal\City.txt
The sky is green. After a few days of being monitored, I am finally going home. The warm artificial rays of sunlight touched my glassy skin for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.
The city was crowded, full of life and overpopulated for sure. I wasn’t even sure how I was supposed to get back home, I felt like the skyscrapers were going to come crashing down on me– like the ocean of moving people was going to swallow me– I was drowning in the city–
. . .
! WARNING !
SUBJECT IN CRITICAL STATE
Benzodiazepines - ADMINISTERED
. . .
Thankfully the computer sedated me. I’m not sure how– well I think it might also be thanks to the computer’s help, but I was able to find my way home. “Take a left”. “Go forward and up the stairs”. That’s what I was hearing inside my head. It didn’t feel like it was me, it felt like thoughts were being injected into my head.
I am home.
.\C:\Journal\Home.txt
My apartment was a mess. It was actually a bit disgusting. There was rotten food on the floor next to the overflowing sink of dishes. My clothes were all piled up on chairs or thrown across the apartment. I honestly couldn’t even find the bed due to all the trash I never disposed of. I clearly was not doing well before.
There was a wall full of photos next to my bed. It’s pictures of me with people I used to call friends and pictures from the wasteland. I used to love going out there, to the old cities. Something about the ruins of the past made me feel calm. I guess it sort of reminded me that everything eventually comes to an end, but it’s not final. Even though something is over, that doesn’t mean that life doesn’t continue. The city was in ruins, that was the end for us, but for nature it was the beginning of something new.
I guess it’s the same for me now. The end has come for her, but for me, now, this is just the beginning.
I have to start cleaning.
.\C:\Journal\-.txt