Coroxn
An extremely equivalent exchange.
This is a school assignment we had to do. The opening sentence, though not quite what I would like in terms of quality, is what I have to work with, so I can't help that. Feel free to rip apart and insult everything else.
THE CIRCLE IS ME.
"My Mom stormed into the room, and headed straight for my computer. Desperate to keep her away, I leaped between the two, only for the screen to open wide and swallow me whole."
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(What?)
Everything just suddenly drops, like a huge weight's been lifted off of me, and a strange feeling of weightlessness takes over for a few seconds before my entire body goes numb.
(But what-
What just happened?
With the "I am the circle" thing-
And the screen just opening-
What just happened)
And then my thoughts are cut by a rack of pain, and I try to clutch at the source only to realise I not only lack arms to clutch, but an area to feel the pain. Like I'm nothing physical at all anymore.
(Did I die?)
I stop myself from thinking, try to calm myself down and review the situation. I close my eyes-only I don't, because I don't have them anymore, and-
(Am I dead?)
I start as I realise I can't see anything-
(How did I not notice before? What's happening?)
But no, it's not that I can't see anything, it's that I can see everything, all at once, a huge wash of information that's built up of tiny building blocks, billions and billions and more than I could ever manage to even wrap my head around, but that's just the details, not the big picture, because if you look back it's-
(It's-)
The internet. All of it. And I'm not on it or in it or watching it. I am it. It's strange (really fucking strange-) but oddly comforting. So for the first time since I came here (what the hell happened?) I examine myself properly.
I spend time (however much is hard to tell) just staring at it all, because there's so much you have to look closely to pick out even one piece, and if you look too close you just see the ones and zeroes that it's all constructed off. Eventually, I manage to pick a few pieces out. And before I even know what the pieces are I see billions of connections to those pieces, pieces of information forming a tunnel between that and others, and it's so interconnected and together that it hurts to look at.
(But this isn't-)
(How did I-)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(There!
There it is again!
What the hell is that?
What the fuck-)
But then I'm focusing elsewhere, though the first thing I really look at is impossible to see, all of the connections in it and going from it almost obscuring it, but it seems familiar, really familiar.
Facebook.
And it's huge, a mountain, and the millions of people and pieces of information and conversations and how full it is is just staggering. It's a monster, a beautiful, terrifying monster, and one that's unmistakably alive, the people using it serving as its lifeblood. And I can almost taste the emotions of it, of the people in it, and for the most part it's a sense of wasted time or annoyance or complacency or boredom, but the bitter, salty taste of sadness is rife within it, traceable to the scent of metallic hatred and malice perforating from it. There's the bread-like smell of old friends talking and of enjoyment, but it's stifled by all the rest.
And then my gaze shifts to somewhere else
(But it's still there-
Part of me.
Like all of it is)
And there's this great big....
....
....
Cannon?
And it's firing pieces of information across the web with this terrifying speed and precision, millions every second, but nothing is being destroyed, there's no sound of breaking or destruction (no sound at all actually, if I stop to listen, just this strange buzzing sound that's coming from...nowhere). It's like the world's most efficient mode of transport, bringing it's denizens to their destinations without ever going anywhere.
Google.
There are many smaller cannons too, which are other search engines, I guess, though none as big as Google.
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(That, that, what the hell is-)
I ignore it.
The Internet is huge, and there's a lot to see: Dating sites, millions of them, with the overwhelmingly pink taste of desperation flowing from them; Humour sites, with this nice untraceable smell that makes me want to smile; Youtube, where that buzzing sound has its source, only it's become a roar, and it's so full of content that no matter how much I try I can't pick anything individual out because there's way too much light and sound everywhere masking it out.
Forums, too, billions of those, with ideas and information bouncing within them and the old, musty, book-like smell of kinship that I recognise from Facebook, but there was too much other stimuli to really notice it on its own there. Not with these; just friendship and discussion here. And there's blogs, billions and billions of blogs, each feeling different but similar at the same time, from the famous to the unknown. There's these articles, too, about every topic I've ever heard of and billions I haven't, and when I see this strange shadow over them I realise in an instant it's Wikipedia, linking to all of them as sources of validation for its own content. And there's just so much between Wikipedia and the article, so much about so many different topics that I could just be here and spend the rest of my existence learning.
(I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME, I hear it again, but it doesn't seem to register)
There's these bubbles, which I know from my extensive time among them are 'Wikis', online encyclopaedias that function similarly to Wikipedia, but go much more extensively into their chosen topic. Most bands, TV Shows, Anime, Book Series, Films, Video Games, and the like have a Wiki dedicated to them, where their fans wordlessly compile information and discuss whatever the Wiki is dedicated to.
Of course there's porn, (it is what the internet is famous for among those who don't frequent it) but it's isolated and strangely removed from everything else.
Also easily noticed are the pulsating annoyances that can only be News Sites, gaining new information and deleting the old so fast I can hardly see what any of it's about, my task made even more difficult by the desperate screams for attention, so raw and urgent it's like the site is worried it will starve if it doesn't get the views it craves for-which I suppose, in a sense, is true.
There's writing sites, which are a strange experience because they're on fire with new stories and commentaries and the hopes of the people submitting their work. The mix of emotions, at once felt, written and discussed, seeps into me, so much so that I have to look away or risk being swept away by it-
(Still there though, still there, part of me, never going away)
(I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME)
to Twitter, which hurts to look at even more because it's so loud and there's so many things jutting off from it and growing it's like a horrific, ever-mutating abomination-
To Otaku's, which are bright and colourful boards where artwork is displayed for critique and discussion, and the taste and smells of all the colours is so unique, so inspired, I have to just stare.
And then, somehow, it's all at once, all of it, all of the Internet and everything in it, in my mind, ever-moving, incomprehensible, such a rush of emotions, hatred, love, happiness, bemusement, sorrow, comfort, desperation, anxiety, emotions I haven't even felt myself becoming myself as I absorb it all (or is it absorbing me?).
It's so huge, there's a sense that I can't ever have all of it, can't ever experience everything, because even if I had all of time in the world, it does, too, and it will never stop growing and expanding. There's so much I haven't seen, so much I'm never going to get to see, but so much wonderful, invaluable life here that I can experience. Does it balance out? I'm completely mixed up about it.
And then I hear it-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
Even louder than before.
And the internet...buckles-
Warps-
Rends-
Uncovering a point I've never seen before-
This colourless, emotionless circle, that's connected to-
No, that is everything else the internet has.
And then it comes for me-
Or I come for it-
It's all the same, now-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
And as it nears, I see inside it there's people-
(Help)
Billions of people, of all ages, races, sizes, the only thing they share is the deep sadness coming from them like a wave, and I can tell at a glance that they've been there for years, and that they don't expect to ever be let out-
(Jesus, help me!)
And I realise what happened to me-
(Please, help me)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
What's going to happen to me-
(What are you doing? Just reading? Help me you fucking monster!)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
It occurs to me I never wondered how the internet worked before, or what it used for fuel.
I guess, now I know.
(Please.)
And in my last moments of individuality, before I gain and lose everything simultaneously-
(Help)
I say it-
(No, please no)
Fuck, but I do-
(This isn't how-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND
THE CIRCLE IS ME.
"My Mom stormed into the room, and headed straight for my computer. Desperate to keep her away, I leaped between the two, only for the screen to open wide and swallow me whole."
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(What?)
Everything just suddenly drops, like a huge weight's been lifted off of me, and a strange feeling of weightlessness takes over for a few seconds before my entire body goes numb.
(But what-
What just happened?
With the "I am the circle" thing-
And the screen just opening-
What just happened)
And then my thoughts are cut by a rack of pain, and I try to clutch at the source only to realise I not only lack arms to clutch, but an area to feel the pain. Like I'm nothing physical at all anymore.
(Did I die?)
I stop myself from thinking, try to calm myself down and review the situation. I close my eyes-only I don't, because I don't have them anymore, and-
(Am I dead?)
I start as I realise I can't see anything-
(How did I not notice before? What's happening?)
But no, it's not that I can't see anything, it's that I can see everything, all at once, a huge wash of information that's built up of tiny building blocks, billions and billions and more than I could ever manage to even wrap my head around, but that's just the details, not the big picture, because if you look back it's-
(It's-)
The internet. All of it. And I'm not on it or in it or watching it. I am it. It's strange (really fucking strange-) but oddly comforting. So for the first time since I came here (what the hell happened?) I examine myself properly.
I spend time (however much is hard to tell) just staring at it all, because there's so much you have to look closely to pick out even one piece, and if you look too close you just see the ones and zeroes that it's all constructed off. Eventually, I manage to pick a few pieces out. And before I even know what the pieces are I see billions of connections to those pieces, pieces of information forming a tunnel between that and others, and it's so interconnected and together that it hurts to look at.
(But this isn't-)
(How did I-)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(There!
There it is again!
What the hell is that?
What the fuck-)
But then I'm focusing elsewhere, though the first thing I really look at is impossible to see, all of the connections in it and going from it almost obscuring it, but it seems familiar, really familiar.
Facebook.
And it's huge, a mountain, and the millions of people and pieces of information and conversations and how full it is is just staggering. It's a monster, a beautiful, terrifying monster, and one that's unmistakably alive, the people using it serving as its lifeblood. And I can almost taste the emotions of it, of the people in it, and for the most part it's a sense of wasted time or annoyance or complacency or boredom, but the bitter, salty taste of sadness is rife within it, traceable to the scent of metallic hatred and malice perforating from it. There's the bread-like smell of old friends talking and of enjoyment, but it's stifled by all the rest.
And then my gaze shifts to somewhere else
(But it's still there-
Part of me.
Like all of it is)
And there's this great big....
....
....
Cannon?
And it's firing pieces of information across the web with this terrifying speed and precision, millions every second, but nothing is being destroyed, there's no sound of breaking or destruction (no sound at all actually, if I stop to listen, just this strange buzzing sound that's coming from...nowhere). It's like the world's most efficient mode of transport, bringing it's denizens to their destinations without ever going anywhere.
Google.
There are many smaller cannons too, which are other search engines, I guess, though none as big as Google.
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
(That, that, what the hell is-)
I ignore it.
The Internet is huge, and there's a lot to see: Dating sites, millions of them, with the overwhelmingly pink taste of desperation flowing from them; Humour sites, with this nice untraceable smell that makes me want to smile; Youtube, where that buzzing sound has its source, only it's become a roar, and it's so full of content that no matter how much I try I can't pick anything individual out because there's way too much light and sound everywhere masking it out.
Forums, too, billions of those, with ideas and information bouncing within them and the old, musty, book-like smell of kinship that I recognise from Facebook, but there was too much other stimuli to really notice it on its own there. Not with these; just friendship and discussion here. And there's blogs, billions and billions of blogs, each feeling different but similar at the same time, from the famous to the unknown. There's these articles, too, about every topic I've ever heard of and billions I haven't, and when I see this strange shadow over them I realise in an instant it's Wikipedia, linking to all of them as sources of validation for its own content. And there's just so much between Wikipedia and the article, so much about so many different topics that I could just be here and spend the rest of my existence learning.
(I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME, I hear it again, but it doesn't seem to register)
There's these bubbles, which I know from my extensive time among them are 'Wikis', online encyclopaedias that function similarly to Wikipedia, but go much more extensively into their chosen topic. Most bands, TV Shows, Anime, Book Series, Films, Video Games, and the like have a Wiki dedicated to them, where their fans wordlessly compile information and discuss whatever the Wiki is dedicated to.
Of course there's porn, (it is what the internet is famous for among those who don't frequent it) but it's isolated and strangely removed from everything else.
Also easily noticed are the pulsating annoyances that can only be News Sites, gaining new information and deleting the old so fast I can hardly see what any of it's about, my task made even more difficult by the desperate screams for attention, so raw and urgent it's like the site is worried it will starve if it doesn't get the views it craves for-which I suppose, in a sense, is true.
There's writing sites, which are a strange experience because they're on fire with new stories and commentaries and the hopes of the people submitting their work. The mix of emotions, at once felt, written and discussed, seeps into me, so much so that I have to look away or risk being swept away by it-
(Still there though, still there, part of me, never going away)
(I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME)
to Twitter, which hurts to look at even more because it's so loud and there's so many things jutting off from it and growing it's like a horrific, ever-mutating abomination-
To Otaku's, which are bright and colourful boards where artwork is displayed for critique and discussion, and the taste and smells of all the colours is so unique, so inspired, I have to just stare.
And then, somehow, it's all at once, all of it, all of the Internet and everything in it, in my mind, ever-moving, incomprehensible, such a rush of emotions, hatred, love, happiness, bemusement, sorrow, comfort, desperation, anxiety, emotions I haven't even felt myself becoming myself as I absorb it all (or is it absorbing me?).
It's so huge, there's a sense that I can't ever have all of it, can't ever experience everything, because even if I had all of time in the world, it does, too, and it will never stop growing and expanding. There's so much I haven't seen, so much I'm never going to get to see, but so much wonderful, invaluable life here that I can experience. Does it balance out? I'm completely mixed up about it.
And then I hear it-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
Even louder than before.
And the internet...buckles-
Warps-
Rends-
Uncovering a point I've never seen before-
This colourless, emotionless circle, that's connected to-
No, that is everything else the internet has.
And then it comes for me-
Or I come for it-
It's all the same, now-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
And as it nears, I see inside it there's people-
(Help)
Billions of people, of all ages, races, sizes, the only thing they share is the deep sadness coming from them like a wave, and I can tell at a glance that they've been there for years, and that they don't expect to ever be let out-
(Jesus, help me!)
And I realise what happened to me-
(Please, help me)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
What's going to happen to me-
(What are you doing? Just reading? Help me you fucking monster!)
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
It occurs to me I never wondered how the internet worked before, or what it used for fuel.
I guess, now I know.
(Please.)
And in my last moments of individuality, before I gain and lose everything simultaneously-
(Help)
I say it-
(No, please no)
Fuck, but I do-
(This isn't how-
I AM THE CIRCLE AND
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