i. Camille’s Providence

t is always the best state, to have time.

I’ve always noticed the disparity in the pant of a male. That triangle of space where it wouldn’t be on the Ken doll version of him. The material meets the leg and caves in toward the crotch. What we don’t want to admit is a person under there. A less conforming entity. Than a doll anyway. Than a RealGurl. Or Boy.

I know that I’m only just waking. Up. I know that I am traveling here in the rivers of my dreams. There are no more dreams though. I’ve been sent to record it. From the human point of view.

RD AUTO Message: +-XXX, Fri 1, Octobre 2087 - Springfield, VA. Off-Line |

We are post history.

Too much to record. Style trumps, meaning trumps style, both are fused into one. But it is indeed recorded. We are indeed being recorded. Forever.
No way to bring it all to focus. Like how we overlook things. Like...

I am looking outside. There is light.
The white Sun melting through the trees.

Shards.
Gas clouds.
Air again, still.