War can’t end terrorism. War is terrorism.
I still feel them. Those hands reaching out for me. I don’t know where I am right now but I still feel them. I still hear them. This I am not use to. I am trapped in a giant PS4 and I have no one to blame but myself. There is a sea of pixellated soldiers in front of us firing away in our direction. I duck for cover behind a wall and Winona and The Storyteller are firing machine guns as the pixellated forms explode into red bursts of blood. -What the fuck is going on here, is this real. – Who the fuck are you? – It’s…I’m Mason, I turned into the game show host – Oh Christ grab a fucking gun! There is a pile of guns behind us touching the ceiling. I grab three and begin blindly firing. – What are we killing? – No idea…terrorists? – They look hungry? – Stop asking questions. I am God – Dez thinks he’s god now – You’re a fuckin’ PS4, a shell of plastic…shut the fuck up! If you’re God figure out how to get us out of here. There were so many of them coming at us I couldn’t see them through the cloud of exploding blood. – Do they ever stop coming? – No, not really we can’t move and if we do we’ll probably die and…not really sure what happens if we die. – Is he god or does he just think he’s god? – I am god – If you’re god than we can easily get out of this right? – I am god. My brain was now rippling and I felt it once again reaching for infinity, as a human I could no longer really contemplate that. I needed a perspective…it was so hard to just attach to one. In that moment all that was static, now existed as a wave and it was impossible to focus on just one thing. The soldier’s forms began shifting, vibrating into and out of solid form. Now the three faces of my comrades were floating in front of me, their voices echoing and the shape and structure of their faces slowly changing and waving. I had to close my eyes as I grew dizzy. The reality of the blood clouds reverberate inside my body somewhere something dies, something really dies. And the bombs now feel more real. And the bullets whizzing by my ears now feel like they are more than wind. And somehow being trapped inside a video game seems more real than my previously “real” existence. I now see the looks of the faces on the dying clouds of blood. I look at the gun that I can’t stop firing and the faces of my comrades, fixed in their anger and fear. The soldiers are now on their knees with their guns on the ground. I look into their eyes and they see mine and something, a lot really; changes. I can feel what I am. Not much more than a pixellated congregation of solidity, and they feel themselves as well. Somewhere something dies, but something grows as well. We drop our guns to the ground and stare out from our new eyes. We can do nothing but stare and we can do nothing but feel, somewhere, something…grows