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Imagine it’s 5 years from now. How will you define social media, work, education, income, the creative arts?

A drone lands on your doorstep, flies away, and leaves a shipment from Amazon. An alarm-clock wakes you, raises the temperature on the thermostat, reorganizes files across all your devices, opens your garage, turns your stove on, reads your emails aloud, and then summarizes your agenda for the day. This is the Internet of Things (IoT) and merging it with code that can learn and make decisions is the current frontier in technology, and as James Barrat argues, it may also be the final invention of the human race.

The stock market had to create a specific name for the overnight-success tech IPO billionaire, “unicorns.” Crowdfunding is the rawest form of market validation. Industries emerging, like smart textiles, machine learning, hologram design, and intelligent voice recognition are innovative, and they are undoubtedly impacting how creators produce content.

Acclaimed novelist and poet, Amy Stewart, admitted to writing her last four books primarily using Google Docs voice recognition dictation tool. Microsoft Skype Translator learns as it listens, through A.I. intelligence based transcription of live calls, then superimposes captions on video chats to hack language barriers in conversation. This is the world you live in right now.

Now, imagine you are tech savvy.

You understand aesthetic design. You know C++, SWIFT, iMacros, Python, php, Ruby, Angular2, Fortran, and UNITY code to design holograms and augmented reality. You have a thorough understanding of Hadoop, SaaS, quantum cloud computing architecture, TensorFlow, the Google Deep Mind algorithm, BluePrism, and robotic process automation. You absolutely understand blockchain technology, mining, and can even create your own crypto-currency and orchestrate a successful ICO roll out.

Decentralization naturally draws you in.

Pursuing a new definition of wealth, economy, and work-life balance, naturally draws you in.

But with these new powerful open source resources at your disposal, you don’t envision independence and prosperity just for yourself.

You want to disrupt inequality.

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You are not alone.

Google fooled you into thinking content is king.

They lied.

It’s oxygen.

And now, your mind is hacked.

…thinking Jesus was a magician?

…thinking God is a programmer?

Did you check your pulse to see if you’re a host Bernard?

You did!

Who augmented your reality?

Oh, I know!

It was a leaked email server, a viral rant of truth not to be mistaken for sanity. Media meltdown mired in backlash made you chant “Pussy Grabs Back!”

Or was that fake news?

It could just be the Mandella Effect, CERN tinkering with the laws of nature, or The Matrix resurrected as valid science.

You lost that hard drive you had.

Who cooked your spirit?

You always knew never to trust your ears; but in this timeline,

the eyes lie too.

Comment pizza. I mean comet please.

You know what I mean.

Divide me by infinity and I’ll be the same thing I was when I started
inside you
in this place
here.

“If you surrender to the air, you could ride it.” ~Toni Morrison

Baffled, I wanted more, which he seemed remiss to provide.

“Is there anything else?” I asked.

YES

“What? Please tell me.”

I met a woman.

“Who was she? Can you tell me more?”

When she had a dream she pursued it with unrelenting ferocious tenacity and focus. She smiled and laughed often among others and while by herself. She cared deeply for her family and friends and always paid considerate attention to comfort those in her presence. She wasn’t afraid to love, or to cry. She died in the shower. It was a Thursday.

“I must admit; I am confused. Could you be more specific?”

Imagine you live forever.

Imagine you fill each day with worth.

Imagine each seed you plant grows far beyond your expectations.

Imagine you live to see it all burned down.

Now, imagine you start again.

The cyclical cycle of satisfaction makes anticipation everyone’s true drug of choice.

You make a decision, await its conclusion, and pain or joy felt fades back to ZERO, and that is exactly what you are, the zero in the number line. Life and death extends beyond you in both ways, infinite.

He could not be digested whole, or in part, only observed from afar. When he went to university, he majored in cloud reading and dream translation. He found the courses soothing and supplemental to his ineffable desires. He died later that night in his sleep. It was a Thursday.

My hair is wet from the rain, my heart is pounding in fear of what’s next to come. SHCRAACK! The crunch and crackle of metal striking metal and glass shattering echoes in the air. This is the end of times. I am in a war zone, lost in the chaos — my senses abandoned to frantic emotion. Whatever adrenaline was meant to kick-in, hasn’t. I hear what sounds like a faint whistle increasing in my ear to a loud excruciating screech as a massive gust of wind blows beside me and I briefly see an object graze my side. It shoots past my shoulder. I turn to make out what it was; but before my eyes can even adjust focus, they are blinded by heat and light.

I awake.

My eyes open only to cower back into their lids. The sun is bright hot and I can feel it on my face. Even with my eyes closed, I can tell I am being carried on a gurney. I let the pain settle in and take another attempt at opening my eyes. This time the pain is more bearable. As my eyes open, I see two soldiers carrying me, but I can’t make out the colors or the emblem on their uniforms.

“She is awake” says one.

“Lucky her” says the other sarcastically.

He’s right. I go back to sleep hoping not to wake up.

Pledge to Creator

Untitled

We ran red lights, and danced in the streets at night drunk off the sound of music in our minds. We rallied behind our dreams and explored our fears near the farthest outer reaches where they hide. We roamed free, and when in Rome we roared and not like Romans but rebels against the tide. We were absent from our bodies, present in the moment, exhausted every pleasure, and only slept when we died. -Alexander Nimos

Untitled was originally published in Poets Unlimited on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Naked in the Garden was originally published in A Different Perspective on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

It was orgies of pleasures meshed into fragments of time dilating pupils in sync with the expansion… was originally published in The Currentivist on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.