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Madison Scott-Clary 2021-09-25 15:30:10 -07:00
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writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/True-Name/007.html
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<p>The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream walked.</p>
<p>She walked from sim to sim, finding intricate ways to build up a sign, a sigil from them. Finding ways for disparate streets to connect, finding alleyways that opened into deer paths, finding breathlessly exposed parks that, when a corner was turned around a tree or perhaps a low hill, opened out again into the lobbies of libraries, the shelves of which became a hedge maze.</p>
<p>Perhaps there was more to the sims that she walked, but she did not notice. As soon as she felt herself drawn to any one particular place, any one particular feature of any one particular sim, she left. All of the things that people &mdash; her people &mdash; built passed beneath her feet, passed before her eyes.</p>
<p>And all the time, her thoughts soared above her, watching her path, the steps she took. They watched all of her left turns. They viewd the sigil that her walking drew and imbued in it new meaning.</p>
<p>And all the time, her thoughts soared above her, watching her path, the steps she took. They watched all of her left turns. They viewed the sigil that her walking drew and imbued in it new meaning.</p>
<p>A thought: <em>What dire emotional need caused one to build an office building in a place of no corporations?</em></p>
<p>She stepped into that office building, walked up two flights of stairs, and into a floor of empty cubicles. She turned at random, moving through the rows, and sat down at one of the desks and thought a while.</p>
<p>A thought: <em>Why is the first instinct upon creating a wholly blank medium such as this to build in the nature we remember?</em></p>
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<p>A thought: <em>Why do we drag our memories around with us like luggage?</em></p>
<p>So, she walked, and as she walked, she strove to draw her thoughts in the other direction. She strove to draw them forward, away from the past, so that she could consider the future.</p>
<p>What would this place look like, after seceding from the rest of the world? What would a land &mdash; if such could be said of this place &mdash; of those who had already seceded from the rest of humanity look like? How many would notice and rejoice? How many would notice and hate every second of it? How many would notice and not care, and how many would not even know that it had happened, that it had even been on the table?</p>
<p>Would they build differently? Perhaps they would stop bringing along with them the strictures of their pasts. Perhaps there would be fewer office buildings and more cabins in the woods. More idyllic houses. More mountain landscapes and main streets of cute towns and hole-in-the-wall restaurants that no one knew about and yet which served the best curry, the best hot dog, the best kitfo that one could possibly imagine.</p>
<p>Would they live differently, love differently? Perhaps they would still pair up as always they had. Maybe, when they get a crush on someone, they would fork to have a separate relationship with them as well. Maybe collectives of families would live together as they always had, finding comfort as much in each other as in their chosen relatives. Maybe a taboo would grow around the having a relationship with oneself, of forked instances living together and loving each other. Would that be narcissism always, or only before individuation?</p>
<p>Would they build differently? Perhaps they would stop bringing along with them the strictures of their pasts. Perhaps there would be fewer office buildings and more cabins in the woods. More idyllic houses. More mountain landscapes and main streets of cute towns and hole-in-the-wall restaurants that no one knew about and yet which served the best curry, the best hot dog, the best muffins that one could possibly imagine.</p>
<p>Would they live differently, love differently? Perhaps they would still pair up as always they had. Maybe, when they get a crush on someone, they would fork to have a separate relationship with them as well. Maybe collectives of families would live together as they always had, finding comfort as much in each other as in their chosen relatives. Maybe a taboo would grow around the having a relationship with oneself, of forked instances living together and loving each other. Would that be narcissism forever, or only before individuation? Would it be incest?</p>
<p>Would they chose life? Choose death? Would they pray?</p>
<p>She knew that it would happen, of course. She shared none of Yared&rsquo;s dread, of his pessimism. This was fine. She was the politician, he was the puppet. He would handle the pessimism, here the optimism.</p>
<p>She knew that it would happen, of course. She shared none of Yared&rsquo;s dread, of his pessimism. This was fine. She was the politician, he was the puppet. He would handle the pessimism, her the optimism.</p>
<p>No, not optimism; surety.</p>
<p>The bill would pass, the System would secede, the station launch would go off without a hitch. The bill could not but pass, the System was bound to secede, and the station launch was as safe as could be.</p>
<p>Yared would upload, or he would not.</p>
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<p>&ldquo;2143. Got it.&rdquo; True Name smiled. &ldquo;Thank you for this. I think it will work out quite well for us in the end.&rdquo;</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-25</p>
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