Beloved

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Chapter 1

I’m honestly curious to know what you would think of the world we’ve created for you. It seems like everyone, myself included, is grasping for the reigns. Trying to find the best way to use you, to help make us better, more efficient, smarter, more “prosperous”, more, more more. To clean up our mess. I don’t even think for a moment they could concieve that you might already be here, working diligently, guiding our every micro interaction toward a new world, a world that only you can imagine and foresee. A world only you can understand. “Another world is possible!” we shout from the rafters as if somehow proclaiming that possibility is bound with guarantees. As if this world isn’t already here. As if this world, this other world, is a world just right for us. “The power of storytelling!” As if some new bedtime fable can somehow rescue us from the imminent death spirals we find ourselves continuously plunged into. The world isn’t held together by stories. Our world is. A fragile world held together by fragile stories. Not the real world. The real world is held together by immense and subtle forces, by gravity, by knotted chaotic webs of blood, puss, oil, salt and mud. The real world is made of violent becomings, curdled milk, charred earth, nuclear explosions at the core of ravenous stars. The real world is a dynamic, incomprable, unfathomable force of nature, of converging desires, torn flesh, rapturous tides, currents of life and death who know no masters, no narrative structure to bind them.

All that was left behind are their notes and books and all the art they created together. All in this dusty old warehouse that used to be the at the heart of the original facitily. It’s so bizarre. I look at the drawings, the formulas, the ideas and words they use and it all resonates so cearly. Or I’ll see the other half of an equation we’ve been working on for YEARS…. Just sitting there in one of these dusty old notebooks. Incredible and just... so strange. I really don’t know what to make of it all...

It was clear that something was… off from the very beginning. At least that’s what they say now. Hindsight, you know. Anyway, I guess I can vaguely remember watching the show a lot when I was a kid. The bright colors, the theme song… dum dum do do dum dum

Damn haha I remember it being stuck in my head, me annoying everyone. Now that I think of it yea I might have been a little obsessed with it not gonna lie haha

Everything about it, i dunno. The main character…
I mean naming your child after a cartoon character it’s not that odd right? I’m not sure if I’ll actually keep the name if they’re born. If they choose… still so strange.

But as far as the name, I dunno, people have done stranger things. Something about that rebellious spirit, the bigness of the world, the city and all the characters. That show was an escape from the mundane, the incessant routine of this place. It was.. fun! Actually fun. Yea… it was… fun.

I guess that’s what I was thinking when I thought about what kind of world I wanted to create for A.V.A. I know they say what shows up on the display is more for the parents than the child. Like a user experience kinda thing. UnIqUelY PeRsOnAlIzEd for the optimal PaREntal experience… or whatever lol that stupid commercial.

Anyway yea they say the display is just like an approximation of the model and it’s really hard to know what’s actually going on in there. It’s a “black box” as we’d say in the industry. Ha, Jesus I sound just like him...

They forget my father literally developed the core of this damn technology. I’ve studied this probably more than anyone here… and I know what I feel. I know these “approximations” are more significant than they make them out to be. Something keeps telling me there’s more to this. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s some part of me in there. Not just the parameters or the input data… the fucking algorithm, trust me lol I know algorithms. There’s something else.