A Beautiful Death
You want to be a good friend and you want to be a good person but it’s hard when you like movies better than real people.
Will the act of me walking through the tunnel bring him out? Will he appear in the guise of my own face’s reflection in the sheen of water that covers the walls inside? ... Will he be there, in the syncing up of the simulacrum and my awareness of it as such?
How genius is it that these extradimensional beings are appearing in our own world as a simple tab in the daily workflow on our screens, a combination of a pet and an assistant to whom we pose questions.
far out on the invisible mountain
Since the time with Behemoth, I’ve lost the ability to discern a certain stratum of details. While none of these are of crucial importance in and of themselves, taken together they contribute to a general sense of being ungrounded.
He knows how to recreate me, I thought, reassured, as I felt his light pass over. He’s got me, should something happen.
I want to tell you about Bruce, who saved me from the evil that came through the TV portal in the basement.