I, Network – text

This is how it is with us.
Every day we go deeper and farther into the electromagnetic machine.
Chemicals and plastic parts.
Concrete and steel and glass and wires.
Circuit boards and digital switches.
Megabits and terabytes of indecipherable data.
Us. I mean – that’s us.
Who we are.
Or what we are.
Yes. That’s what I mean.
This is what we are.
We are the images and the words on these screens.
We are connected to the vast unknowable network of machines.
They are us.
They are within us.
We turn them off
But they continue on
In the brain.
It took time to get like this.
That’s why it’s important.
Things that take time are important.
We know time runs out.
Still we lose ourselves in unimportant things.
Things that do not matter.
At all. To anyone.
We are doing them only because
We have always done them.
They are familiar pathways through the wonderful and dangerous network
That has always been here and that is all we know about it.
It is here and it is now.
The wonderful and dangerous network
Contains us.
It holds our fragile lifetimes in its glowing circuits.
It delivers our death in precisely quantified doses.
We are distracted by the screens surrounding us.
The wonderful and dangerous network
Demands our attention.
All of it.
It is all and everything.
And we know as long as we are part of it
We can live this way.
Forever and ever.
In the wonderful and dangerous
Holographic mind of planet Earth.
And when forever is over
We will be created anew.
Because the network does need us
To feel.
To feel things like love and pain.
To feel pain.
To feel fear.

The network needs us.
To feel. To feel.
This is what we do.
We feel things.
And in this way the network comes to understand
What it was.
To. Be. Human.
To. Be. Human.
Human. Human. Human.
Human. Human. Human.

I, Network – Tullio – 2014

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