FZ

The same dream, over and over again. What is this? The premises too shaky for any conclusions to be drawn. A single constant: July 15th, 2130... and that man. A geezer if there ever was one, hopelessly dull to the situation or spectacle that constitutes his reality. The date remains, but nothing else: a geometric flux of all known laws of nature which bends round this singular creature's existence. Perhaps stranger yet, is the lack of reaction this should evoke in a man who seems very much an outsider to this world. But the isolated moment of the present is all that exists for him, should a TV grace him with existence in front of him, he will watch. Should a can of beer convene into his hands, he would drink it all without question. On further reflection, this was a world without violence, perhaps even without pain. But he is not aware of how or why it works. Indeed he is not a sharp man, but perhaps even our finest minds could make no attempt to even put together what is truth in this world. His needs are attested before he even knows he needs it. His wants delivered sooner still. Quite satisfactory substitutes for knowledge. After all, from his perspective, what constitutes meaning or existence? Any capacity he could have had for self-awareness, utterly arrested by a world which gives no consistent response to his actions. It is a reasonable assumption that his deterioration is likely the result of having not used his brain towards any purposeful task for God knows how long, but who knows, maybe he was stupid from the beginning. The universe and experience so tightly coupled, it seems that truth itself has less weight in this world: it is one thing to have questions which cannot be answered, but in this world even the formulation of question has been extricated from the geezer's apparent faculties.