Of Sallo. - MXO Forum Archive

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I'm not sure how this will turn, it's been a weary day, but when has my personal affects affected my business? Is this a business affair? Perhaps I shall file this as a miscellaneos and let it fall to coded dust. I'll try to recall it as it occured, though while this is an experience burned into my neurological coding, encrypted perfectly down to the 4 mph breeze that swept through Sobra, something tells me that this will be a practice of inadequacy. I wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for... Fenshire.

"It's not that I don't believe in God Ma.."

The higher pitched bark of a young mans voice that has recently evolved but had yet to settle.

"Fiilllth...VvvFilth," it was this spitting voice that truely caught my attention as I went about my stroll, my feet had stopped, resting on a slab of concrete broken in twain. It was the voice of hatred and anger and disappointment that only a mother could achieve.

"It is your lack of faith in the lord's love that has compelled him to bring malaise upon your body, upon our family and yet you deny Him still. Have you even no love for me," she paused a moment, "No. You don't, only the lord loves me and if he wants you to face judgement early I will give you to Him. I will give you to Him-I will give you to Him-I will give you to Him," she began to chant, in a voice that aimed to reach where Babel's tower could not she screamed, "TAKE HIM LORD! FORGIVE ME FOR THE FILTH I HAVE BESTOWED UPON THIS EARTH."

My hands were tugged around a stand pipe I had climbed to be right outside his window. Her last words before storming out of his room,

"When you finally die you piece of *poop*, don't you forget your momma loves you. And God loves you too."

A lingering door slam, the kind only old buildings make, the kind that makes a sound that echoes through the entire complex, ignored by the kind of people who only live in old buildings such as these. Domestic affairs amongst the unaware and sleeping are rarely my affair but .. the young man had a coughing fit as his mother yelled, the sort of cough you didn't have to be a doctor to recognize. Peering inside the window on this early afternoon I saw the young man, sweat drenched hair, sheets furled in a mulchy unclean fashion, coughs of blood on the pillow he tried to keep his left cheek from resting upon, sallow skin, sunken eye sockets, frayed lips and a body that was ready to die.

The window was easy enough to slip through from the outside.

"It's not that you don't believe in God.." said I to him sincerely curious.

He didn't look to me, he simply took a long pause as I absorbed the room itself. I've heard of places like this, read codes of the guy who knew a guy, a picture of the sleeping baby Jesus resting in Mary's arms hung centered above his bed, class books bound in ratted cloth that read "Arithmetic" instead of "Mathematic." No computer, television, PSP, it had the color scheme of a worn photograph of a spring cottage, so worn it almost seemed like fall.

"I just.. don't ::cough:: think that the God who existed in the Bible is here anymore, that maybe he was part of a world that no longer exists because this world is fake, because this world doesn't matter. I've watched the sunset out this window every day for as many days I can remember and that doesn't even seem real. Like somebody painted a picture of the sun and hung it out there and wanted us to believe in it like Mom wants me to believe in God, as if it matters, as if one omnipotent being, as if one great star is the only thing life is worth living for. What if God isn't real, what if that sun isn't real, does that mean that life and living is no longer real? But maybe if it isn't real then people then get the powers of God, that people gain the vibrance of the sun, maybe we can do impossible things, mm-mm::he stammered slightly:: maybe I could live a little longer. My Mom is my only friend, my Mom and the sunset. She won't let me goto the hospital, says it's not our way."

For the moment, all I could perceive was the pungent air of the room, coating my skin.

"I think you know the sun is fake," he continued, I let the brim of my hat dip lower, an unusual tension in my cheeks, "I think you're my Angel of Death but you know what I also think?

I think you're real. I think you hold God and the sun within you. I think you even know magic and that there are others like you because there must be, because you cannot destroy matter and if God or the Sun no longer function in the capacities they are fabled to that that energy is transferred to men. But why has nothing been done? It wasn't supposed to be like this. I can't die yet.. Why can't you fix the trees, their leaves haven't been green in years. If I look far enough I can still see the smoke from Roger's Way. It's as if whatever Godless world this is is getting weaker. I wish there was a God! Because I think men weren't ever meant to handle the job.

I see you standing there. You're not going to help me are you. You just come to watch, I mean nothing to you. My mother, the people in this apartment complex, this city, world it means nothing to you riiiight!?"

I could feel his chest heaving in such brilliant pain, a gurgling noise that crept to his throat like a body trying to drown itself.. pneumonia, more blood spat on his pillow.

"In-sig..nificance.." it was his last uttered word as the code began to rise from his tormented vessel. I gave him a gentle kiss upon his forhead as I began to catch the threads of his escaping soul, the encryptions of a projected image that would no longer be self-animated.

Not long after I received a call from Fenshire..

"Hmm.. I thought the Matrix had a certain... delicious quality to it."

Such signature flirtation, the sort that always manages to be adorable. It was.. serendipitous, his call, considering the recent reports regarding him. I made it a matter of busines as I asked him, "What are your thoughts on the Cypherite cause?"

I felt almost like a ruthless whore pouring salt/lime/Cuervo into a man's open and festering wound while flashing my breasts and a wiley do-me grin. Or at least I would have felt this way if I did not have my own genuine objective..direction.

I told him of the meeting I had earlier with the young man that had passed, how it made me think that if the Cypherites were so passionate about the bluepills why haven't they thought to affect their lives directly, aim to improve the quality of the simulation so that it is more than par of standard efficiency, but beautiful.. with green-leafed trees in Sobra. He responded like a man who frequented machinist company and could not help but absorb their fashions,

"Well, simple. Because by doing so, you're showing the bluepills that the impossible is possible, which then begins to unravel the frabric of the very life Cypherites wish to embrace. It seem as if that would be something that would more interest someone from E Pluribus Neo. Or in the case of playing God, someone who works for the Frenchman. "

"la la la," I sang, "It's about the degree of things luv, surely one can be subtle enough to enhance life so that it would not seem so unreal."

"They would be simple things at first, but I think the power would go to one's head, and then would come the need to save everyone. You can't save everyone luv.."

"It's a thin line, but... not implausible and perhaps more useful than inertia.... If the Cyphs were a stone I'd feel compelled to kick it just to see it move."

"If the Cypherites were a stone, I would take it upon myself to be a jackhammer."

The thought of him saying You can't save everyone luv struck a chord in me, while I clearly have no interest in saving everyone, what is our duty as redpills despite our organization, is it to not somehow be greater than the selves we once were as we are enlightened with the abilities that once upon ago we didn't have? Aren't we at least granted to try for greater dreams, to make greater realities? If I had cared even two cents about saving people, I would have wanted to have tried to save everyone at the folly of falling short rather than to sit and have fallen nowhere.

I didn't save the young man, never had a computer or anything like it in his entire life and yet he knew truth, how many more were like him? Was the matrix deteriorating as he said? What was the current status of the energy usage, were too many redpills awakening, no longer being batteries? I could have saved him. He might have been brilliant. Hell, he might have been a great Cypherite or operative in general, maybe I should have collected him later. I don't tend to second guess myself on such affairs, but I do allow myself to wonder..

"It seems so unlike my business to be curious of such a common thing, even to feel minutely affected by it when it is but a single thread upon many that comprise this great skein." I said to him.

"You should explore that facet of yourself. That which is unknown often times is the most exciting," said he to me. My thoughts drifted for a moment..

"I think on that my luv, it seems I have some travelling to do. This was a sincere pleasure.~"

I hung up my phone and let my code slowly dissolve into the air about me, a single thought as I drifted..

God this is a dirty city.

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