I want you to pretend that you are inside a simulation. The new found tech you’re wearing creates an overlay on your senses and perception that splices the augmented points of reference into your CNS. In this new life you are no longer a human, on Earth, with a story and social security number. All of that melts into nothing. Instead you may now discover that you are born into the land of sentient candyfloss.
Its quite an imperience, isn’t it? Why don’t you feel around a bit and see what you notice about this new way of doing things? The most amazing hint that consciousness brings is that it soon takes the shape of whatever its been poured in and then swears thats gospel as the latest frame of reference is always the greatest for the most forgetful. That is how powerful your mind is, my friend.
What did you notice?
I looked around and spotted the fact that there were many different types and trends of sentient candyfloss in this realm. Quite a few hues and a few follow their own rules, see via their own lens and tell tales they inherited about who, what, where and when first dipped the stick into the bowl that spins and whipped up the sugar before being impressed by his creation. Others don’t give an F about this because its all about who has got the biggest stick to whose fluff is the most immense. Some are glad for what they can get and others are threadbare and broken. Its a strange, strange land is this candyfloss realm. Can you imagine it? Add in your own details.
Some of them fret and say:
“He giveth and taketh away” as they mourn the loss of one they knew well for all step in a glow and once they dim then thats the end. All that’s left is the stick. Some ponder:
“Am I the floss or am I this?” they say, pointing at the remains of the dead and then launch into an immense topic where they quote passages and references that detail, exquisite, a thing called a cake that none of them have tasted, many can’t even imagine, but most are quite sure exists.
“Well, its got sugar in and we know thats what we’re made up of and instead of a stick it has a plate. Yeah, I don’t know what that is but they say its the same thing but the rest of these bells and whistles are just beyond my comprehension”.
Others think its a load of BS and point at all the snapped sticks that were torn to shreds when the blues went against the reds and, in the process, eradicated the purples who were never seen again in that realm.
“Its just a money making scam. “Give us some of your fluff” they said “And you’ll get it back when there’s nothing left on your stick. Oh, not here. Oh, no, no, no. Some place else. And not as candyfloss but as something called a cake. Its all preposterous. Not an inch off my muff to these cowboys or Indians. Not interested, one bit”.
Others ponder, at depth, the signification and implications of the fact that they are even sentient.
“Forget the rest, I can’t get over this. I mean, stop and think, we’ve got this stick in the mid, a central column, which is the peak of design and engineering as each one is perfect and that means that someone must have created it. I mean trees don’t grow in forests like this, do they? I wonder why they did it? Then look at the floss. The biggest and best select the finest specimens to get it in and you can see the trends hop from one gen to the next. Does that mean that style is immortal and its surfing above our world in a realm unseen? Can you see where I’m going with this? Are there levels on top of levels and we, as the most basic form of candyfloss sentience are missing the big pic because of… what, I’m wondering? Is it intentional? A design flaw? Or is the fact that I can ponder such things all the testament you need of the inherent greatness that created a situation in which one can be both of an in, in the same instance, and thus render vastly differing perceptions to the rest via the virtue of their attention and how they direct it?”.
There were some men, it was said, in secret that realized this and withdrew from the race and learned how to pull their floss within. To the rest of the world these sticks were dead. Piled up so high that they couldn’t think of what to do with them. For a good while the ones that remained guilt tripped the rest and took tributes from both the blue and the red for the atrocities they committed during the slaughter of the purples and then they vanished, never seen again.
What the rest missed but this team clicked was that they were neither the stick not the floss but actually some form of liquid which, when traced back, was currently being beamed into the head of a human that was reading these words from the device in front of him. Obviously to express this was ineffable for the rest in the realm and thus they kept it to themselves and set about reality testing the state of play in this land of floss. What the rest didn’t know is that they’d figured this out long before all of the atrocities happened and the above events mentioned were all orchestrated in order to allow them to fade away. They remained, however, as did their influence as they comprehended the use of tech that allowed them to pretend to be blue or red.
“After all, its simple. We just dumb it down a bit and fit right in whilst having access to a realm they never suspected and we play it off like we’re one of them”.
For quite a while they built an empire of their own that became a home from home for those in the know as they passed coded tales and oblique references about what truly kicks and the nature of the human that was currently staring at a black mirror as magical glyphs of influence danced around in their consciousness to create a world filled with sentient candyfloss that was, mainly, so caught up in the business of living and arguing over various forms of division or engaging in entertainment that this type of information was beyond their wavelength. But, that doesn’t mean its impossible to comprehend. Just read back to that example of the one who noticed the design elements and suspected the fix was in but wasn’t quick to back a text or hoary old perspective. It wasn’t so much the information or the discovery as it was all about the resonance and stretching beyond the limits that were presented which amped up everything like a rising tide lifting the ship of sentience that gains a new perspective by surfing the edge of their consciousness.
Obviously this wasn’t rendered explicit as the one in question didn’t think it, he lived it. He’d intuited that there wasn’t actually any difference between the fluff and the stick as they were made of nothing, in the end, and stuck together via concepts that said “This will be this and that will be that'”. As much freedom as there was there were also obvious limits which hinted that this was the work of one efficiently beneficent and miserly rich.
“Such a contradiction” he thinks and then, one day, intuits:
“Wait a minute. There has to be a bit in the mid. Thats what we’re missing“. And, at that point, he vanished.
Suddenly he found himself sitting in a chair with a VR bodysim jacked in to his central nervous system and the overlaid tales of perception between a candyfloss of sentience and living, breathing human started to intermingle and mix before he came too again and found himself on the pavement looking up at his people.
“You OK? You suddenly fell. We all thought you were dead. Were about to slap you round a bit but you came too in the end”. He got back up and kept pondering.
“Interesting, so, from their lens they see it as a shift of vibration and that means, by deduction, the same must be happening on the opposite. Like whipping a towel with a wet end and watching the curve travel the distance. Does it really exist or is it part of illusion that uses the medium to present the message? Can you truly claim this when that sting comes a calling as that feels mighty real, and yet, it can’t be because there is a whole nother reality that contains a totally different me and…”.
He falls silent. Something has crept into his head that is so immense in its implications that he can barely comprehend the significance.
“What if the same is happening there again and again and its a case of recursive looping with each step presenting less information for those locked in to the current frame of reference which, by its very nature, is a construction that is hyper conducting their resonance”.
At exactly the same instance another thought came thundering into his awareness:
“If I am he who currently sits, plugged in, then that means the rest wandering around with sticks and flossing are literally part of my imagination and don’t truly exist, at least, not in the sense they think. This is mind boggling“.
He retires for a while to stay by him Self as there was so much happening within that most could barely comprehend. He tried to tell but they looked at him and thought he’d flipped his lid. That passing out bit did him no favors as they said he’d fell and bumped his head. Thing is the purple team, now hidden, had been watching from a distance and they were envious of what he did and the grace with which he mastered the shift.
See, what he didn’t know was they knew who he was, before he’d stepped in. In many ways they’d been awaiting because of their machinations which led to the wars and bloodshed along with their hiding amongst them whilst hanging their misdeeds as a threat over their heads as they tapped the higher realms, all in secret. He wasn’t aware of any of this because he just did what came natural but it seems their shenanigans on the back end had created a specimen that was of differing resonance and they didn’t know what to do with him. From his initial inception and presence they surrounded him. As he developed and bounced these concepts out to anyone who’d listen they often said:
“Why thats ridiculous? However do you come up with the mess?” and other things whilst taking copious notes to share at their meetings. The random observations and strings of questions went on to fill in chunks of data for them as they’d been examining the nature of consciousness and had came to the conclusion they are the gut bacteria stuck in the abdomen of the human reading this text and totally unaware they’re not actually a person but, more accurately, a people. Now they had a clearer lens on what kicked and they pondered the health of one who consumed nothing but prepackaged candyfloss, day out, day in, as they remained connected to this creation that was stimulating their CNS and firing their imagination to make them think they were something different. And this is where their reach ended.
Not so for the other in question as he’d leapt beyond this and applied the same logic but with a new creation that they hadn’t yet discovered:
For he was perceiving the reality creating machine that had took the sentience, wrapped it in flesh, placed it on a planet, created the tech to interface with the CNS and weave a tale in their head about being conscious candyfloss in a VR experience that seemed realer than real to those currently within who had no comprehension about the level of shenanigans that were going on around them as a fractal of consciousness showed different aspects of itself, depending on your resonance and connection for, in the end and during, you were, actually an immortal and none of these things.
“We should kill him” they said. The verdict wasn’t unanimous because there were some, intelligent, who saw it as inevitable that the dark they hid could become a light that would spill. As they said:
“You of short mems. How quick you forget that we worshipped a position of the stick across the grand cosmos of fluff from which this all descends and those who came before made the same mistake of thinking things stay fixed as they were stuck in their positions and this is that, all over again ergo what you rebelled against means you’ve became the same establishment. Ironic, isn’t it?”.
Most of them didn’t care. See they’d been quietly implementing a new mode of business that allowed them to pimp the floss off the rest and sell them steel wool instead. The image of their glinting metropolis was really quite a sight. But not too comfortable. Nor was it delicious as it was all on the surface. What they’d done, in effect, was mimic the same program with a programmed mindset they’d gleaned from reverse engineering their predicament and thus the intent became to rule in hell as they could keep the sweet sweet red, blue and purple for themselves whilst selling the rest the image of metal being the shape of perfection and they’d gladly wear that weight around their stick and not comprehend they’d been tricked by those who sat at the helm whilst remaining invisible and quietly pulling the strings they themselves had fashioned.
“Its took us a long time to do this and we’re just getting started. With these new floss pouring in a rate thats constant we can expand beyond the gut and influence outside the human and maybe even span into this realm that he said, what did he call it? Oh yes, the land of the records”.
There were no cakes, in the end. Just flat black discs upon which music was etched and played back with a thing called a diamond tip which, get this, apparently formed in the Earth from a when a coal gets pressed to the limits and shifts from one form to the next via a process of refinement. Most of those, connected, didn’t get what the hell this meant and nor were they interested as the great bait and switch that was akin to getting Souls for nothing as you sold exoskeletons under the guise of social acceptance to a population so plugged in they didn’t notice they were plugged in to a trick within a trick that, itself, was housed in a deception and taken in via an illusion that was, in the beginning and end, pure consciousness.
Those were the latest notes and observations they’d cobbled together from the target and whilst most thought the ramblings were delirious and made no sense there were a few that clicked that if the disc is etched and spins in a higher realm then there is no free will and they’re exactly where they were intended and thus its all inevitable and thus nothing to resist or fight in the end beyond your own illusions that beget confusion by drawing a line in the sand of perception and saying:
“Thats it. Thats who I am. Its my limit and I’m sticking to it!”.
Granted they’d used this gnosis well to foster the division that made them rich as they wielded so much influence in a realm that was now totally different to what it was in its inception.
How does candyfloss made of steel wool taste? Better yet, how do you think it would feel in the deal where the real was replaced with fake and people ran around with ideas half baked in their head as they carefully colored in upto but not beyond the line in their head that was created via noisy manipulation and tricks that many would never suspect as they were so invested in the idea of candyfloss that its own sentience but is actually, in the end, nothing without the human augment who powers the entire script with his awareness that filters through to begin their adventure.
“I was thinking about the flat disc you mentioned in which there was a shiny diamond dancing” she said. She knew him well as she was a girl on a mission and had learned to read the signals and just keep mirroring back what he said to extract information that would be sent back to the men in purple.
“Yeah'” he replied. “Its pretty wild, I’ll admit as there are more questions than answers at the moment but thats what makes it thrilling”.
“Well, what else can you tell me about it? You stay in my head and I can’t wait to hear whats next” she said, laying it on thick, as instructed. Not that he needed encouragement because, in his mind, he’s simply interacting with a figment of his imagination and the combined attraction of two minds with one intent meant he could increase his processing resonance that manifested as intuition from within the paradigm and it was then she stuck him with a steel tip that had been designed, just for this purpose. He fell and she dipped, proud that she’d completed her mission which had, in effect, handed him the keys to kingdom when they’d intended something else for you can’t kill what is immortal and thus what came next was inevitable:
From the floss to the boss that sits, now, reading these words of the screen and quietly accepts the deal of being human to beyond this realm and the secret influence that wishes to sell tin men a heart as they fill the contents of their dome with straw and draw upon the resonance in their chest that they meekly accept without a roar or squeak of discontent what Zardoz spells in their floating heads that sound like commandments for those who’ve never stopped to comprehend the simple elegance hidden behind the spell that sounds a little something like this:
“The Game of Souls has you, my friend” said the protagonist on each layer and segment of resonance that he currently surfing in perfect sync and alignment that shone brighter than a diamond in the darkness from which the Psylense was singing the void within which the noiZ was suspended in this meeting of opposites that was following a script that was as simple as it was complex for it followed the form of a fractal which sits, right now, inside your very consciousness and attempts to tell that you are a human, reading some text on a screen where a machine switches between ones and ohs to create a show that aligns with all you know for the Self same thing is also termed breathing, seasons, feelings as well as the best tricks – life and death – in this Game which you, my friend, at this very moment are playing by inserting your Soul as a credit.
Thats how powerful imagination is. Now, with that said:
How does candyfloss made of steel wool taste?
Till we meet again
