Certain pitches will travel further. Some conversations, some vocal influxes, are wholly audible wherever in the office. The old prison walls were not designed with acoustics in mind. Real ancient granite. From the moors, to the moors. Each stone has a memory of its own. One flurried rush down the slide and balls go bouncing.

 

Man! I thought I was gonna be late! Slippery around here! You all hear about the jam down Two Bridges? Some fucking creature in the road. Hh? Ye- Woho! Mind out! Almost spilled m- Yeah. This like, was this horse, crazy albino white horse, oxen looking thing, but big. Like huge, like, no, just stayed in this weekend. Spread all the way across both lanes and into the thicket. Larger than any creature I’ve ever seen that’s for sure, since the, since… like giant sloth skeleton museum prehistoric shit. Sorry. Bigger than an elk even. You know elks? I didn’t get to… Are you listening? Who are we waiting for? There’s a whirring from the ducts that bounces freely around the space. It seems as though the whole office is sinking into the balls with us. Like concrete or quicksand. And there… the was… face had chunks missing rubbery looking skin like latex, almost humanoid. Someone is tapping their pencil. And they were went bent down squatted trying, but couldn’t move it at all like, like I don’t know if it was because of how heavy or how, can you move your bag please?, but they, and it was stuck to the road? and then they took for fucking forever at the gate just early my ID wasn’t registering? what’s that about? did this happen to any else? or are you all dormies? Hm? and am I going to be the only one speaking today? like for fuck’s sake why’s everyone being so somber? hh? and who are we waiting for?

I’m drawing scratchy lines down the margins of my notebook. Scars of water etch the granite walls marking days marking years. Hot hail sizzles in the streams. The vapour can’t seem to settle or make clear its mind like great sheets of rustling plastic outside. The sky rustling and pouring with the trembling touch of a ghost sliding into bed or breathing beside you, water hot and harshly acidic, clouds uncertain and ready to bleed at any second. Dartmoor hasn’t been the same since it started. Imagine, rain like this and still it doesn’t quench the flames. None of us here have specific job titles as such. Yet another of Ms Wey Lewd’s ideas to disrupt the structure of the workplace. I was working general admin for a while (of which there is a lot required) but was moved last week to the post production team to assist with colour correction. There’s a lot of reorganisation going on at the moment. Dancing they call it. Pretentious bee terminology. Specifically, at least this week, I deal with continuity. I cross check scenes or shots for variations and consistencies in palette/contrast/brightness/tone, etc. Maintain stylistic consistency. Never imagined I’d be doing that. My lack of specific training means my job, like, mostly comes down to rough assessments and note takings… I’ll enter a scene and take a while noticing details, and make notes on what I would change. Then I pass the notes on to more experienced members of the team who are too busy to cross check things for themselves. I’m not permitted to make any changes to the simulation. For instance, I might write: Scene 2, Shot 6 – white balance needs correcting. Or: Scene 2, Shot 6 – boost reds in mid tones.

Morning. Just before everyone’s settled I’d like to remind you all that Mx Miu Miyakoshi will be visiting at some point today to check the progress on their latest season of videos. We remember this? How close are we to final render?

 

The floods of rain down the sheet windows distort and reorganise the landscape in continuous waves of intensity in swirl?ing furl? unfurl? squirl? My margin doodles are spreading across into the lined area of paper that I should be saving for notes. I used to take minutes but my bosses stopped asking for them when they realised how unproductive the meetings appeared on paper. The stenographer got fired within a couple weeks but sometimes I think I still see them around the office, they must have a relative. I know where they live actually. It’s hard to face the reality of your thoughts in real time. Dripfed fumblers. The ovoid table with the flattened top is nearly full of cups and laptops besides one slice that remains shiny and empty, the absence focal to everyone’s attention. When will they get here? More shouts bounce from the ceiling, and sobs, running footsteps. Opposite me, a man whose name I have forgotten scrolls his phone. How would I alter this view? Boost the greens to pull some organic from the grass… Maybe the yellows would bring more to the scene emotionally; notes of extinction. There’s something curious about the moors. They outlive. They are eternal. No matter what the climate brings as challenge, they endure, and there’s always the fog, like a God out here, without warning and sudden precipitous power it descends and smothers the tors and downs and all we can do is hold our hands up for forgiveness, heavenward, or clarity, or sight. Wow that was quite a nice sentence, huh? I’m being poetic again. Sorry. It’s a tendency. Don’t know why I keep apologising for… On one of the walls of the meeting room… I’m visualising it in my head… is this large framed photograph by Alexey Titarenko. It depicts a long-exposure stream of commuters descending the stairs to some subway station in Saint Petersburg. The morning routine unites bodies as smoke. Some hands are distinguishable as they grip the railing. Without colour, it’s hard to imagine the image as hot or cold. I don’t know why. I can see the condensation building on the frame’s glass, a manifestation of changes in the temperature, in the climate, but I only see that as a reflection of my surroundings, not the world within the frame. There’s no heat there, no life. I would tint the photograph gold to allow the audience to project a temperature. The bodies must be producing energy through connection… friction. More bodies are flung from the chute. Bodies to the left swimming away from the bottom of the slide, twisting their torsos upwards to avoid dipping clipboards in the balls. Ahead, scrollers. Behind, the wall, the photograph. I don’t have to turn to picture it it’s so familiar to me now. To my right, a man is bending over to fondle the projector. His wet slate trousers cling to his buttocks that seem to swell as his fingers reach the skirting. The screen glows hatred blue because of the lack of input and burns any eyes that linger too long.

 

Who are we waiting for? Excuse me. You know I was just oot for a smoke on the roof terrace. Yes pouring. And ther was. No just hunched under the gutter. Oot West over the moors I think there’s a crop circle. Well not crops no farmers. Sorry. Yes. Flattened oot en looks burnt. Not sure about that. Are we all here then? No?

 

With your brain on the line, you can change someone’s whole perspective. And it is happening now, even faster than Wey can implement its plans for us! This is what you may ask: will we stay for good or are we going? To answer this question you should know: The answer to this question depends on: Do You Want to Stay? For those like myself wanting to leave, yes: If only those on earth who are paying attention or those who might have been listening would do such an amazing act… it would have been much easier. It would be easy, with such clarity. But if someone wanted to leave: We think it is your choice. And as of today when we have your personal information, our choice, no matter how much more we regret, we can have nothing more: not more to share your heart or your mind (because we’re no longer human). So yes, we’will stay on Earth. At a higher level. If we decide to leave: We will let you go, you shall come, and as you always have, we will share what you learned with those that might have cared. And if you decide to stay, you shall live life… as humans always have lived — as creators. For You: If no one else can share it, and you decide in your own time that you want to leave what we have here, you can come here and learn by experiencing our experience. We’ll be around to help you. But once. And if any person asks us for advice on how to get there – it will be helpful – because when we say here are all your thoughts, what about the people that didnít answer our email to your question on social media just a few days ago – that was us: We weren’t able to answer what the hell all those “we” were talking about when we said they were here in our life? Now we are: We are here, we’re here with you in your life now… for you. What is so special about that? If someone wants to leave, why shouldnít they? Do You Really Need to Make the Change?, as this post is about the changes made. In our minds, this is what we, as creators, are going to do. We create and use computers every day, and we have never done, and we can no longer do, enough: to understand where the human brain is, when it begins to change, who it belongs to, and more importantly how we can use those alterations in ways that alter human behavior, and ultimately change the direction of future space exploration and the future of life on all planets and galaxies. Yes, that means you are still here: we create for you now; and it is because of your collaboration, as you will see and feel on Wednesday this April 29th, that we take this important step — and not everyone in the community, as such, could do this on their own with each other: each of us: creating one mind, creating with you. And all I ask in return is to understand, when you are watching this, you want to be the person who allows these changes to change – to know that whatever we do, when someone else feels like having a change, you would have more than enough to feel inspired to do the same as well. It goes by many names in popular culture today that include: “the human experience”, the revolution of consciousness (the change in our minds/conscious thoughts), etc. I like to refer to this “creativity,” what we are all building: more creative minds (as well as hearts & minds and souls, but I’ll save that topic for my final thought). As a human, that doesn’t mean that we do not do. We do. But we are always looking, creating and acting in unison: the one mind – one mind; or, as someone that had that “I”, was always asking: Is this better of course? Because I can say that our ability to think, to create, is one example of the most powerful and empowering attributes, which our human lives on this earth today (although all we have yet to change to know just how to be creators as if we’re creators): It can only creators themselves, even say what our will in reality and know our own future (a moment).<|endoftext|>From now, to them as now (the moment).

This way from then (with all Why would we kill your mind in ways we’ve never done before? These questions must be answered in our own minds. How long are you willing to endure this? And after this, this article is finished – sorry, I think. If you like some more information: What If? The Future of Artificial Intelligence on Our Planet is tbestselling book on how we will control ourselves through Artificial General Intelligence. See this video to learn how: Why Mind Control Works and what we do know is…

 

 

Can we please just get started at least? Hello? It’s getting on now en I have bits to do mmhm. Bits Charlie? Well you know. What bits do you have? We have to wait for Mx M I know. The rain is spraying thicker and louder – radioactivity patterns on the glass. Do we know when she’ll be here? Is there anything we can do? I’m really losing it. The will. The moors are dissolving into bacterial gloops. There is a growing divide between the outside and inside, the rain making more aware the panes that separate the accident from the eternal. Feels like I shouldn’t have eaten such a big breakfast, my bloating lower gut. I continue to squeak about my chair trying to alleviate the pain. Discomfort in clouds. Sluggish blockage.