CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
"The universe is not cruel. You're anthropomorphising the universe by saying it's cruel. Yes, the universe doesn't care. That doesn't make it cruel. It's not choosing not to care. It's just incapable because the universe has no mind. No choice, no conscience. So the universe cannot be cruel. The universe just is. This is what you humans cannot understand. You have to look for patterns, eveolution made you that way. You have to believe the universe is against you when things go wrong: it isn't. And have to believe the univere is favouring you when things go well: it isn't. The universe just is. No plan, no guidance. It cannot be influenced. Praying won't help you. Praying for bad things to happen to other people won't hurt them. And you might say you don't pray, you don't believe in God or any of that crap. But you still hope. You still come up with contexts in your mind. You still think that if you just think things the exact right way then somehow you'll have influence over reality. You are broken. You learn someone is ill, you have an inappropriate thought, the person gets more ill. You didn't make that happen. Thoughts cannot shape reality. Then you think to yourself - I know that. I'm not trying to shape reality. But you are. You're trying to fool reality by denying it to yourself. You still secertly think with some other facet of your being that you can outwit fate. You still think you're doing something. You acknowledge that you're doing nothing, but you think that acknowledgement is the thing that will convince the universe to reverse the person's illness. It won't. And then you try to do one better and acknowledge the acknowledgement, acknowledge it was a double bluff in the hope that this triple bluff is what will convince the God you don't believe in to act. It's a sickness of the mind. You keep going like this, there can be no possible end. Recursive acknowledgement, none sincere, every one in the hope that you've done it enough to change things. Even now, as you hear me say this, part of you still thinks you're special. That you're the one the univere is listening to. Or maybe the robots from the future listening to all humans thoughts with their technology and planning to reward the person with the best thoughts using time travel. You're believing in that one right now. You're - "
"Where...where are we?" said Horseface, finally opening his eyes. He'd been hearing the robot's voice in his mind, not sure if it was his own thoughts or if the robot was talking to him. He was in his apartment. How had they got there?
"Diego's man are going to find us," said the robot. "I'll kill as many as I can - I'm very good at killing - but I can't promise they won't tear you apart too.
"How did we get here?" asked Horseface, since he still did not know.
"I carried you after you passed out."
"I don't remember passing out."
"Nobody does!"
"Why does it look the same here as before we time travelled? What's...what's going on?"
"Want to watch your Seinfeld DVDs until the devils arrive to kill you?"
"How do you know about those?"
"What's THE DEAL with Seinfeld!"
"This is wrong..." Horseface stood up. He reaching for his prying device, the one he used to kill people. He did not have it. He went to the cabinet where his Seinfeld DVDs were kept. There were more of them inside than there should have been. "WHY ARE THERE MORE?"
"It's the future, you found more!"
"That doesn't make sense! We time travelled!" Horseface went over to his computer. Wait, did Horseface have a computer? It felt out of place and yet it was where it was supposed to be. It was connected to the internet, which shouldn't have made sense either but a realisation was coming over Horseface. He felt sick as he opened up his browser. He found his website right away under the bookmarks...
"Here come the Devils!" said the robot, excited, as the door was kicked in. Devils flooded inside. Horseface glanced round long enough to see the robot put his fist right throug the skull of the closest one. It exploded. Horseface paid it no attention. He could see now. See who he really was.
He could see the latest thread started by Charles Horse. The devils started to swarm him. He put up no resistence. He would either die or wake up. He hope it would be death.
___________________________________________
When Charles Horse woke, there was a peroid of time where he could still believe that he was Horseface. That Horseface had been a real person (horse) and not just a character Charles Horse had dreamed up. He had felt so real. He'd had a life, a history. A whole world he lived in. During that time Charles couldn't tell if he was more Horseface or Horse. He wanted to be Hourseface. Even in that grim scenario, trapped in the future with a murderous robot, at least Horseface had a life. A friend. He was a real person. Not like Charles Horse.
Yet inevitably, Charles Horse had to face reality. He felt Horseface's world slipping away. He tried desperately to remember all the details, groping for them in the dark, refusing to open his eyes for fear that it would all disappear. He could still feel Horseface's feelings. He could still hear the things the robot had said. The true things. He could still remember killing people as Horseface. And he could still remember that he had liked it.
But Charles Horse would never kill anyone. Not because of any moral reason. No one was judging him, no one cared. Murder, don't murder, it's all the same. No, he just wouldn't be good enough at it. He'd probably only mildly hurt hte person then get arrested. He was already in prison. He didn't need to make it officail.
Charles Horse laughed crazily to himself then rolled out of bed. Horseface was gone. Everything good was gone. The only thing he could rely on was that he was Charles Horse. Oh fuck.
"Where...where are we?" said Horseface, finally opening his eyes. He'd been hearing the robot's voice in his mind, not sure if it was his own thoughts or if the robot was talking to him. He was in his apartment. How had they got there?
"Diego's man are going to find us," said the robot. "I'll kill as many as I can - I'm very good at killing - but I can't promise they won't tear you apart too.
"How did we get here?" asked Horseface, since he still did not know.
"I carried you after you passed out."
"I don't remember passing out."
"Nobody does!"
"Why does it look the same here as before we time travelled? What's...what's going on?"
"Want to watch your Seinfeld DVDs until the devils arrive to kill you?"
"How do you know about those?"
"What's THE DEAL with Seinfeld!"
"This is wrong..." Horseface stood up. He reaching for his prying device, the one he used to kill people. He did not have it. He went to the cabinet where his Seinfeld DVDs were kept. There were more of them inside than there should have been. "WHY ARE THERE MORE?"
"It's the future, you found more!"
"That doesn't make sense! We time travelled!" Horseface went over to his computer. Wait, did Horseface have a computer? It felt out of place and yet it was where it was supposed to be. It was connected to the internet, which shouldn't have made sense either but a realisation was coming over Horseface. He felt sick as he opened up his browser. He found his website right away under the bookmarks...
"Here come the Devils!" said the robot, excited, as the door was kicked in. Devils flooded inside. Horseface glanced round long enough to see the robot put his fist right throug the skull of the closest one. It exploded. Horseface paid it no attention. He could see now. See who he really was.
He could see the latest thread started by Charles Horse. The devils started to swarm him. He put up no resistence. He would either die or wake up. He hope it would be death.
___________________________________________
When Charles Horse woke, there was a peroid of time where he could still believe that he was Horseface. That Horseface had been a real person (horse) and not just a character Charles Horse had dreamed up. He had felt so real. He'd had a life, a history. A whole world he lived in. During that time Charles couldn't tell if he was more Horseface or Horse. He wanted to be Hourseface. Even in that grim scenario, trapped in the future with a murderous robot, at least Horseface had a life. A friend. He was a real person. Not like Charles Horse.
Yet inevitably, Charles Horse had to face reality. He felt Horseface's world slipping away. He tried desperately to remember all the details, groping for them in the dark, refusing to open his eyes for fear that it would all disappear. He could still feel Horseface's feelings. He could still hear the things the robot had said. The true things. He could still remember killing people as Horseface. And he could still remember that he had liked it.
But Charles Horse would never kill anyone. Not because of any moral reason. No one was judging him, no one cared. Murder, don't murder, it's all the same. No, he just wouldn't be good enough at it. He'd probably only mildly hurt hte person then get arrested. He was already in prison. He didn't need to make it officail.
Charles Horse laughed crazily to himself then rolled out of bed. Horseface was gone. Everything good was gone. The only thing he could rely on was that he was Charles Horse. Oh fuck.