Taser

The sun felt warm on my skin. The air was cool and filled my lungs with its nutrients. I watched as the water splashed against the shore like a dance, its mist landing on my face. I could taste the salt. I could smell the life. A piercing noise suddenly snapped my neck back and the horizon melted away into a swirl of dark clouds. I reached out and cried as I watched my memories dissipate. Then I was awake.

It was the last time I ever dreamed; the last time I slipped into the subconscious without the fear of never waking up. I had replayed that memory so many times that it seemed like a lucid dream turned nightmare. In fact, I was living in a nightmare. I had seen the spiritual apocalypse right in front my face, yet the population was still stuck in limbo. We weren’t chosen, we were the forgotten. The chosen had their spirits far removed, and were possibly floating in whatever paradise their God promised. But we, us, the forgotten had to fiend for ourselves by any means. The spirit of God had disowned us. We were living without souls. There were a few left who still believed God would come back and replenish us in the ways before The Abandonment. It was silly of them, and downright disrespectful to those of us who accepted our fate. People like me were a part of the Illuminated. We decided that if the spirit of God could just leave us without question, then we could take matters in our own hands. We were already growing children in artificial wombs. Robots were now integrated into the biological genome. Humans are so advanced that humanoids were now a separate species than homosapians. The Antiquated, which we liked to call the opposition, did not believe in our methods. They said science would ruin everything and be the demise. They said The Abandonment was the result of our tampering. I never admitted it publicly, but when I reminisce of the shoreline, I wonder if The Antiquated was right all along.

I was having one of those moments of doubt, distracting myself from the task in front of me. “Dreen, are you fucking hearing me?”, called out the humanoid with the slate eyes. I don’t know who embedded the ability to use profanity in humanoid’s dna, but that shit was annoying. The first generation prototypes of humanoids were so polite and submissive. Perhaps it was the advancement of them getting literally shitted on that they became more like sergeant asshole. “Yes sir!”, I yelled. The slate eyes narrowed. Humanoids were so advanced, yet they lacked that basic human intuition. It was argued that God provided this, but since humanoids were the superior race, they did not acknowledge God. The abandonment did not affect them. They saw it as evolution when the mass population did not wake up. They figured it was just more space for them to progress. The humans that were awake during The Abandonment used everything in our power to stay that way. Cocaine was nothing short of legal. Coffee was damn near extinct. We no longer had the luxury of falling asleep anymore. The spirit of God was not present to wake us up. Alarm clocks were reprogrammed and redesigned to include small does of electricity that would shock you awake. Money was no longer a thing. Currency was electricity. Solar panels became traded on the black market. Elon’s dream was perverted into dystopia. Yet here I was, still on the side of The Illuminated. Because at least over here, I knew I would be waking up tomorrow.

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eu amo ser aquele que fica debatendo sentimentos e sentidos até às três da manhã.. “feeling” is published by leonardo marques.