what is real after death? after love? after life?
a real-time hyperfiction experiment

*elevator music has jumped the lab* – arianna huffington

Nothing is as it seems. Your thoughts are not your own. Your scrolls and swipes are adding detritus to your large living language model, your L3M. Your own data soup of chemicals, hormones, electrical impuses, and neuro-replays of the highs and lows of our memories. If you jam tiktok dances and what new athleisure outfit is going to make you feel cuter than you are, you may be seeking an escape. Dumbing down your own magical mind.

Moods will fuck you up. Songs that trigger old hurts. Fuck you up. In fact, right here, let me show you a song called “Fucked Me Right Up,” by Sean Hayes. Just a second, I’ll go find the YouTube link.

Live from Largo on YouTube: Fucked Me Right Up

Okay, so that’s a heartstring. Right? Are you listening now and reading? I am listening and writing. We are near in time and space, and now these words are bringing our thoughts into alignment. That’s how it works. We get into proximity to our people, and we adjust and micro-correct our flight path to share the journey, fight the rain and sleet, and find the sunsets and sunrises of the next part of our life together.

Let’s fly, baby. Let’s hit our stride with someone wonderful and considerate. Finding our ONE partner would change the entire world. All of the elements of my life find excitement when I’m in love. When I’m attached with a healthy and loving partner, my armor in the world is not required. I can pull off my chain mail, drop my weapons, and go in for a hug rather than a defensive or offensive blow.

> back to index: proofs of life

Look >> There’s a new Facebook Group on *hyperfiction*

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