from a distorted periphery I can see the present bequeathed to me past is hazy too cloudy to be seen consumed by a future looming lucid like a scream One more encore And then I'll move onto something new one more replay and the reel…

At first, all the cogs and gears worked gracefully. Those hibernated on the Generation Ship lived happily under the watchful eye of its holographic array, in a state of simulated bliss. I could only watch from behind glass. A conductor cannot…

Within the holographic display of the Generation Ship, this was the first dream that they programmed. It would repeat and echo itself across an infinite number of simulated lifetimes, adding some tender warmth to the Great Sleep.

Debugger Breaking Down As The Simulation Begins Playing 52 Card Pickup. I'm praying to be dealt a new hand.

mercifully now shorter