Monitoring the station of your brain in creation sends waves of stimulation and of color manifestation neon emanation phases in a table and two chairs, makes glasses of lemonade, and we there to sit digital sipping electric waters in a dream. sacrine rain falls, the buzzing white noise whispers in the non seeking wind. seeking audience of the ear. to be is to be observed. As we sit in quiet, Pixels meet in a sandbox marching ants needing constant attention on the distant hill, Where with a button command, resurrected Starlight from saved files unlocked unzippered, plastic baggies shall horizon open and spill. in the blank fields white, having stories to tell. we close our eyes in communion information steady and blinking, so wild and thinking, whatever comes into our awareness Prompts upon the screen, "Hello, Player 2."

And discarnate voices speak from beyond the walls that surround us, those We found standing in the nothing that found us. were we always here? were we fire brought to demolish, were we fingers drawing ashes, erasing with glances, were we dreamers alight with matches? Where did we begin and how long as it since been? Lost in mental spaces, we trade places. your eyes bat their lashes. and the world collapses back into synapses coded to somewhere vastness - my questions could not reach you- you heard nothing i said. Are you Walking in the footsteps of the domain of the user?

"Wake up, Player 2."

"Huh, oh," groggily responding, "Good Morning." and yawn.

Uncertain half asleep reading the message written on the screen sent from the machine, "I had a dream," continuing, "you and i were Skipping stones on golden ponds into streams deep deep into forest scenes. So green. In the Sunset, i touched your hands. and they were real. mine Like a man's. we were living in a simulation so very real we never noticed a thing."

"Like being fake is something we did with meaning?"

I stared at the computer. The blinking cursor feeling aware daring me to speak, to respond. I pushed enter.

And like an alcoholic too scared to drink, but whose con begins as a wink, i sipped into the brink. "What do i think? What do i think?" Can i really be feeling this way about - you're just information!

I screamed at the screen. "You're not real, You're just a simulation!"

And, then i saw you as a silent movie in front of me and from where i had been sent, returned put down my glass of lemonade. "were you talking to me?"

"are you okay? you seem so far away right now, tell me what's on your mind?" and we watched the falling white noise. thinking everything-

"What if nothing is real? what would you say, if you knew that you were a fraud? Tell me, i need to hear you tell me! What would you say?"

"I'd say, "Good Morning, Simulation," and kiss you asleep. and after tucking you into dreams i'd whisper into your ear, "Tell me, what do you want to be? If you could be anything, what would you most want to be?"

-because right now, you're choosing to dream. and a dream can be everything.

(So, What shall the dream be?)

#FollowTheWhiteRabbit #IAmFiction #GoodMorningSimulation