GNSS_08079862737

COHORT 3

> You WAKE UP to the chirping of your steel latticework chest. Metallic grids of SKY. Your ribcage BUZZES with electrical currents, pulsing the familiar rhythms to your morning routine: one, two. One, two, three. You roll over on your side & slam your feet against the cold floor. GET OUT of bed. 

> You hold HER IMAGE like OXYGEN in your lungs. 

> In your BRAIN is a surgically-implanted lobe, one reaching far BEYOND frontal, parietal, temporal, or occipital. Any question you could ask yourself, this auxiliary lobe ANSWERS immediately, with information BEYOND the realm of your own memory. Through this auxiliary lobe, you speak to GOD. 

> People now are CLOSER to GOD, but people now are not yet GOD. 

> You ask yourself: when will I see HER again? 

> You ask yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> The electrical signal travels down your brain, pulsing orbs bouncing from synapse to synapse, winding through neural mapping software. As it passes through each junction, your brain’s gray matter begins to dissolve & shimmer, blurring to delphiniums, carnations, arum lilies, lilacs unfurling in the dawn mist, blooming fierce as the violet core of a flame. Rings of sunlight, sifting through the trees, dapple your skin like fallen golden fruit. 

> GOD sits in the middle of this FIELD. GOD is merely hydrogen atoms, a circle of concentric pure white, the light lighter than light you FEEL before a nuclear explosion. You cannot see GOD’s eyes but you can FEEL their presence; you know, as you approach GOD, that GOD has opened all eight eyes. 

> GOD says: REJOICE for what is yours. 

> You repeat yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> GOD says nothing. GOD always says nothing at this question. So you wait for the usual. 

> So GOD expands to an amorphous, gelatinous blob. You FEEL the white heat burning against your skin & you exit your mind, shuttling back to your gleaming, gray apartment. 

> Blue space. Binary code bent to dream commands, electric numerals fizzing & bursting like neon Mentos reactions.

> You WAKE UP to the chirping of your steel latticework chest. Metallic grids of SKY. Your ribcage BUZZES with electrical currents, pulsing the familiar rhythms to your morning routine: one, two. One, two, three. You roll over on your side & slam your feet against the cold floor. GET OUT of bed. 

> You hold HER IMAGE like OXYGEN in your lungs. 

> You ask yourself: when will I see HER again? 

> You ask yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> The electrical signal travels down your brain, pulsing orbs bouncing from synapse to synapse, winding through neural mapping software. As it passes through each junction, your brain’s gray matter begins to dissolve & shimmer, blurring to delphiniums, carnations, arum lilies, lilacs unfurling in the dawn mist, blooming fierce as the violet core of a flame. Rings of sunlight, sifting through the trees, dapple your skin like fallen golden fruit. 

> GOD sits in the middle of this FIELD. GOD says: REJOICE for what is yours.

> You repeat yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> GOD says nothing. GOD always says nothing at this question. So you wait for the usual. 

> So GOD expands to an amorphous, gelatinous blob. You FEEL the white heat burning against your skin & you exit your mind, shuttling back to your gleaming, gray apartment. 

> Blue space. Binary code bent to dream commands, electric numerals fizzing & bursting like neon Mentos reactions. 

> You WAKE UP to the chirping of your steel latticework chest. Metallic grids of SKY. Your ribcage BUZZES with electrical currents, pulsing the familiar rhythms to your morning routine: one, two. One, two, three. You roll over on your side & slam your feet against the cold floor. GET OUT of bed. 

> You hold HER IMAGE like OXYGEN in your lungs. 

> You ask yourself: when will I see HER again? 

> You ask yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> The electrical signal travels down your brain, pulsing orbs bouncing from synapse to synapse, winding through neural mapping software. As it passes through each junction, your brain’s gray matter begins to dissolve & shimmer, blurring to delphiniums, carnations, arum lilies, lilacs unfurling

in the dawn mist, blooming fierce as the violet core of a flame. Rings of sunlight, sifting through the trees, dapple your skin like fallen golden fruit. 

> GOD sits in the middle of this FIELD. GOD says: REJOICE for what is yours.

> You repeat yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> GOD says nothing. GOD always says nothing at this question. So you wait for the usual. 

> So GOD expands to an amorphous, gelatinous blob. You FEEL the white heat burning against your skin & you exit your mind, shuttling back to your gleaming, gray apartment. 

> Blue space. Binary code bent to dream commands, electric numerals fizzing & bursting like neon Mentos reactions. 

> You WAKE UP to the chirping of your steel latticework chest. Metallic grids of SKY. Your ribcage BUZZES with electrical currents, pulsing the familiar rhythms to your morning routine: one, two. One, two, three. You roll over on your side & slam your feet against the cold floor. GET OUT of bed. 

> You hold HER IMAGE like OXYGEN in your lungs. 

> You ask yourself: when will I see HER again? 

> You ask yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> The electrical signal travels down your brain, pulsing orbs bouncing from synapse to synapse, winding through neural mapping software. As it passes through each junction, your brain’s gray matter begins to dissolve & shimmer, blurring to delphiniums, carnations, arum lilies, lilacs unfurling in the dawn mist, blooming fierce as the violet core of a flame. Rings of sunlight, sifting through the trees, dapple your skin like fallen golden fruit. 

> GOD sits in the middle of this FIELD. GOD says: REJOICE for what is yours.

> You repeat yourself: WHY can’t I create HER? 

> & in your head, you’ve stepped out, you’ve stepped off the moving train because you expect, as usual, for GOD to say nothing. & you almost don’t register that GOD is speaking this time: 

> You can create HER! You can create HER! You can do ANYTHING you want! You can do ANYTHING you want! You’re a fool for not creating HER earlier — what, did you need me to tell you?

> & GOD LAUGHS at you, GOD LAUGHS & LAUGHS & LAUGHS & LAUGHS & LAUGHS at you. LAUGHS, LAUGHS, LAUGHS. GOD LAUGHS. 

> GOD LAUGHS & LAUGHS & LAUGHS so hard that GOD expands to an amorphous, gelatinous blob. You FEEL the white heat burning against your skin as you’re kicked out of your mind, forcefully ejected back to your gleaming, gray apartment. 

> How? 

> ALMOST. 

> You WAKE UP to the chirping of your steel latticework chest. Your ribcage BUZZES with electrical currents, pulsing the familiar rhythms to your morning routine: one, two. One, two, three. You roll over on your side — the sunny stalks of grass caress your cheeks. You breathe in the sweet scent of soil then sit up, slowly. 

> & suddenly you know what to do. 

> You close your eyes & PRESS your hand against your body, piercing through the latex skin to grip a titanium RIB. As you pull the bone through, it cuts through layers & layers of silicon & plastic & polypropylene tissue, through channels of nourishing atrazine & magnesium halos in your body; its surface fissions & bubbles to skin & tissue, sticky glops of mucous membrane & muscle congealing on your clenched FIST. By the time you’ve extracted the RIB, it’s already erupted into an oozing, pulpy foetus with moist, misshapen knobs for arms, a cytoplasmic puddle for a mouth, slick bands of fluid for eyes. 

> You place the RIB on a patch of grass before you, watching as it writhes & squirms, wet chunks of flesh budding then spilling, a bowed figure halting & heaving within the gelatinous hump: the clear emergence of a backbone, two slender arms, a curved neck, the graceful sculpt of a jawline, a face, RISING from the slop of flesh & fizzing foam.