The only ingredient anger needs to exist is fear.  Without fear, anger withers.

What if we keep the internet and go back to living in huts so the alien farmers will think we’re slow growers and leave us alone?

…Let’s keep clean hot running water, and antibiotics too…

We live in a society that seems to be predicated on one premise – everyone is judging everyone else.

What if we are the city builders for another species – intergalactic farmers?  They seed a suitable planet, and it grows predictably.  They time when to return to check on their stock.  And when we have prepared everything, they come back to harvest us and occupy our former dwellings.

As i see my’self change, i begin to loose my fear of winking out of existence.

At the end of this life – if I make it to a proper end – i will be tired and ready to stop moving.

i hope i will exit with a feeling of accomplishment.  i hope i will exit having been loved for trying – no matter how many times i failed.

After a wink, an eye opens… unless it doesn’t.  At the end, it won’t matter which.  i will have come full circle.

What if, instead of being in many places at once, the unpredictability of it’s location was due to being alive?  What if it orbits its atom, the way my dog orbits me?

It is the life spark.  Why shouldn’t it be alive – and therefore impossible to predict?

The best bit about being a gentleman, is that it requires one to be a gentle man.