WHIRLING F2 DREAM 3 - 1194
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Limbic System: Here we are again, my broken bird. The waves are coming... carrying you away... but you can't go. No -- you have to stay. Always half-aware of yourself.
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You: Why?
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Limbic System: It's your disgusting *body*. Even through your sleep, you feel a vague discomfort suffusing it. Your belly and your sides are unpleasantly tender. You wish you could curl up into a foetal ball of safety, but you cannot -- because of the PAIN.
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Pain Threshold: And there's a lot of it. Ever present in your organs. It's like every one of them has their own *nasty* song to sing.
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Variable["doomed.radiocomputer_counted_headless"] == true
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You: I'm sorry, cells! It's all me! It's my fault!
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Limbic System: *Now* you're finally thinking about something other than yourself. Let's see how far that'll get you.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: Sure, you do. They're all so friendly, aren't they?
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Volition: Some of them are. Some of them are nice. Others are scared.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: Oh yeah, baby. Frame your suffering as a masterpiece. Only one problem -- no one's watching. It's boring, buddy, boring as death.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: You're just stuck here. In the half-world. Could try looking at other people. *Really* looking. But why would you want to start doing that?
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Volition: Come now. Humans have earned your trust. And you theirs...
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Limbic System: What do you think you're doing right now? Coming to some greater awareness? Look at all these lights! Blinking in and out of existence -- *thoughts*! You're just *pretending* that you're asleep, even to yourself. While the world goes on without you...
7->59
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Rhetoric: At least they're *interesting*. Each one has a process just like yours, running in the space between their ears, full of secrets.
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Drama: Thou art honourable and just, sire. 'Tis the snakes who are vile! Hissing in the grass...
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Endurance: Women. It's the women. Look out for the women. They're *oathbreakers*...
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Empathy: Maybe if you weren't so hard on yourself...
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Untitled hub
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: There's no dignity here... only reflections of your body mass. Flashes of the day. You keep coming back to yourself in the mirror -- but why? To admire all your *accomplishments*?
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You: I thought I was on the express to The Silence!
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: Now, you've gone off the rails, baby, now you're stuck sitting here by the tracks, admiring the wreck around you. You just can't help it: looking at yourself, the sum total of your *accomplishments*...
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You: I will! I'm looking at people all the time. I like them.
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You: Human beings will *always* betray you.
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You: Just get me out of here then. Back to the other place.
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Electrochemistry: Maybe if you... you know... like... TOOK A LOT OF DRUGS? Before you go to sleep. That'd do the trick...
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Logic: Maybe if you cracked the damn thing, then you'd feel satisfied and tired. Holding the picture puzzle in your hands... complete!
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You: I'm an artist and liver damage is my art.
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Untitled hub
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You: It's all the system's fault. The system failed me.
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You: This body's worthless anyway... no one does anything nice to it.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: How many promises have *you* kept lately, Sir Harry? To the great, see-through world, the tenderness?
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Perception (Sight): People are beautiful. Statuesque. Parodies and tragedies of themselves. A great democracy of creatures...
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Empathy: Every cell in your body is moaning in agony, asking, "What did we ever do to you?"
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Variable["whirling.dream_3_empathy_cells"]
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Variable["whirling.dream_3_empathy_cells"]
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!(Variable["whirling.dream_3_empathy_cells"])
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Conceptualization: But this suffering -- it must have *some* kind of meaning... A story that will come out of it. Perhaps even a story that you will write yourself?
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: Oh yes. *They'll* check you out, give you some pills, make it all okay. The wonder-makers.
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Limbic System: Don't be stupid Harry, it's not happening. They don't make new *kidneys* and *livers* in hospital. All you've got to do is pray to god it passes -- while you *stare* at the flickering darkness.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: Let it! Let it!
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Limbic System: ...But it never seems to let *you* go, does it? Time to rise and wipe that shining sweat off as best you can. Gather your bearings. Rock and roll.
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You: These are my just desserts. I will endure this pain with *dignity*.
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Drama: Put on your prettiest face for the masses!
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You: [Open your eyes.]
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Limbic System: Yes, your body is a system, and and it's failing you because you're failing it.
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Limbic System: And why might *that* be the case? What love alights on such a bloated corpse-to-be?
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Limbic System: Oh, baby boy. You're already *in* the other place. There's no nourishment for you tonight. Maybe tomorrow?
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You: Wait, wasn't this the express to Fuck-All-Borough?
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You: Hey, what is this? I was on the express to Zero-Holm!
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You: No, please... Where is that blessed nothingness? That sweet oblivion?
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You: I think I... need medical attention.
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Limbic System: You're not *cooperating* brother-man.
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Logic: That pain in your right side is your enlarged liver, by the way. As for your kidneys... you've really been compounding the damage lately.
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Ancient Reptilian Brain: You had your chance, Harry-boy, and you missed it. Started thrashing around, acting all brave -- now the Dark Centre has vanished. You'll never get back to it.
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Variable["doomed.radiocomputer_counted_headless"] == true
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!(Variable["doomed.radiocomputer_counted_headless"] == true)
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Logic: That pain in your right side is your enlarged liver, by the way. As for your kidneys... you've really been compounding the damage lately. And, trust me, you don't want me to do the maths.
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