DID. NOT. Think I’ll get to see my place again. Jesus Christ with nose nails this felt like a nightmare. Still feels like one. I take back all the bad things I’ve ever said about these four walls, I love them. I love them with all my heart. I want to hug them. I will hug them. Here. So what if they’re damp and cold, so what if there’s brown-grey fungus growing in my bathroom, so what if my living room is a screen and a stained couch. So what if there’s cockroaches. This is my place, and it’s safe, and it’s NOT PRISON.
I’m not in prison. I am not in prison. I’m here, I’m back! I am free!
Ok first things’ first. Let me put something on. No, no Twitch for me right now. Some music. Some lofi. Let me sit on this barebone smelly couch of mine. I love you couch! Holy fucksticks I’m happy all this jail stuff is behind me. Really fucking happy. What’s the time? Five twenty. I think it’s been thirty hours since I’ve been awake, what with preparing for the trial and rehearsing what to say and putting on the suit to look presentable and all that. Plus that meathead they locked with me just kept talking and talking and snoring when he wasn’t talking. I’m exhausted. Let me just see if I can take a nap… I love you, room!
What’s the time now? Four. FOUR? It’s evening. Are you for real I slept for a whole day. God it itches. This contraption they put in my head. It itches so much. They said it’s gonna go away in a couple weeks. Ugggh and it’s literally underneath my skull, can’t reach it, even if I tried, feels like ants dancing on my brain. No way to get there, it’s like wiping a window from the wrong side. God it bothers me. Okay, disengage, think of something else. Let’s take a look around and do a recon.
Fridge – food: Spoiled of course. God the smell. Close the door. It’s been three weeks since they dragged me out; no wonder the food is spoiled. Mental note, empty the fridge. Screen – is that a crack – ah dude don’t tell me, I think I might have thrown my deck at it didn’t I. This was Heidi’s screen. Fuck. I don’t have the money to replace it. Fuck.
I need a, what do i need… a beer? No beer, judge said no drinking and plus I’m not going back to the kitchen for a while. I need to calm down is what i need. I need to wind down, the last few days have been godawful hectic. What did that guy say while we were in jail, the meathead with the crazy violet eyes and juiced up body? Meathead Max? What a gorilla that guy was, arms thick as tractor tyres. And always talking about his false ego having failed him? Pushing him to use? He said I need to observe, and not to be. He was into that Eastern NewAge philosophy bullshit.
One, two, three, four, five, now six, and seven. What does Mane’s body want? Food. Yup, food is what I need. Pizza. Let’s order.
I hate that they made me sit in front of the judge like this, with these… things sticking out. I mean, I must have looked like a peanut. Dressed up in a suit, shirt and tie and all, and they’re like, put this beanie on otherwise we’ll see the wires sticking out of your skull MOTHERFUCKER you put the wires there in the first place! Fuck’s that beanie gonna do make me look presentable? Better to walk in with my head shaved like a lightbulb and the device available so the judge can see I ain’t ashamed. That’s my life. But for real now, this itch, ugh this itch is just the worst, I can’t even reach it because it’s manifested under my skull like are you kidding me how am I supposed to, like, exist and do things and focus on stuff with shit-ass termites tip-tapping in my head!
Still beats prison though. Lawyer said seven to ten years prison, whereas these wires dug in my brain, it’s likely two to five years AND I can get my freedom back. That’s important. Just two weeks in that awful jail was fourteen days too many. But I need to stop using. I need to stop using and I need to stop being such a loser basically. Get your shit together Mane. You’re thirty-five. They’ve given you the opportunity of a lifetime here. To walk free with attempted manslaughter charges, I mean this is one-of-a-kind luck.
They told me I was very lucky. The system worked perfectly with my brain chemistry. Violence markers they called them, apparently they are remarkably easy to pick up in my case, and that means the system calibrates accurately and can respond, how did they say this, with high degree of confidence? Whatever that is, I translate it into: lucky me.
I know. Exercise, food and wind down. This should be it. Nothing else. Let go of Heidi and her leaving me, she doesn’t matter and shouldn’t matter. Right so just exercise and eat and read and maybe play a video game or something for today, and then back to run for Ubereats so I can get money again. And what I can do is double-shift so it keeps my mind busy and I don’t do stupid shit. Sixteen hours per day both driving and cycling that way I can exhaust both brain and body so I just crash here when I’m finished. Day in day out this should keep me away from drugs, yea? And then I can look for a new screen.
Till then maybe I can find a second-hand screen or something, a give-away. Yea that sounds like a plan. Start with today, get the screen, books, workout here on the floor for now, maybe walk around the neighbourhood a bit, and dinner, for dinner: healthy. Like salads are healthy. Should do a salad. Make it easy for me, buy one, like a pre-made one. I’ll be fresh and feeling good. And go to sleep again. Yea that’s the plan for today.
But first,
Let’s look at some tiddies.
Ah fuck it’s already seven, the second-hand is already closed. And to be honest, I think the retinascreen was good enough today, probably don’t even need a big screen. Not, like, soon. I also don’t really want to go out, it’s raining again, so maybe do the salad tomorrow. Like some fresh fruit for breakfast or something. Fuck, the kitchen! I forgot the window open! Let me check. God it’s cold. At least the smell is gone. Good. Windows closed, fridge open. Ahhh, beers. At least one eh, one can’t hurt.
Would it hurt? Would it really be an issue if I drink like one beer? It’s not like, I mean I don’t have an alcohol problem. I was two weeks sober in jail. But like, what’s the threshold on this shit in my head? What is it like, a BAR that I’m filling up, like you can be this fucked up and when it maxes out it calls the cops on me? How does it work? I think they gave me a guidance somewhere. Let me pull up my inbox…
Sentence… moved… circumstances… history of drug use, nah dude that was like, like a couple months or so, that’s not history… Hear that, hiSTorY like I was born with it.
Duty… local institutions… protect… yadda yadda… psychiatric evaluation every month, psychiatric VISIT every week, ok so next one is like, day after tomorrow, sure… experimental prophylactic treatment… prophylactic? What does that mean? exquisite brain-computer interface potential, expected five years recovery… full brain scan… biomarkers are a fit… particularly visible and easy to interpret… it had this really long rumplestiltskin name… here it is!
Nano-electrode EEG Decision Support System (NEEG DSS) – subject considerations. from dr. Linda Sanders.
All right let’s see here… Description… a collection of six HUNDRED nineteen nanoelectrodes inserted directly into the subject’s (that’s me) brain for data collection. The areas in question are primarily the orbital prefrontal cortex, visual cortex and other parts of the frontal lobe, with secondary inputs computable from the medial temporal loads which deals with emotion association and the thalamus for scanning of known external triggers.
Mumbo jumbo okay sure so they’re everyfuckingwhere and that’s why I’ve got gnawing baby rats under my skull.
Okay onto Processing… the nano-electrodes are connected via encrypted wifi to processor implanted under the right shoulder-blade… huh, funny, I don’t feel anything… oh wait yup, here’s the incision… sure… when the system produces known solutions to violent predictive biomarkers, then a warning signal is displayed, without bypass option, directly onto the subject’s retina, accompanied by auditory warnings. Okay moving on… notify on-call psychiatric examiner within five seconds and escalate to notifying emergency services in case the harming probability exceeds 90% yea but WHAT ARE THOSE PROBABILITIES? All right whatever. It says violence and harming others so I guess the beer will be fine as long as it doesn’t put me on edge or something.
I remember it vividly now. I know what happened. I can see myself coming home, opening just that door over there, my hands are sticky with dried up blood and my heart is pounding, I collapse on the couch. I am doing so much Avalanche I can’t even speak. Get up, do a line, prep the next one, lie back down. I must have done this at least ten times in just that one night, a miracle I didn’t OD. It was six or seven hours before the police came to pick me up. I was so baked I told them I’d killed all five people in the house. They told me that was not even possible, there only were two of them, a couple, and that the guy I stabbed was actually still alive, and that it did not take them long to find me. I remember thinking ‘of course not you idiots I’ve been in my own home all along! How hard can that be?’ And then I remembered that indeed, I’d picked up a knife from these peoples’ kitchen and stabbed the poor bastard, and I was thinking to myself, ‘what a shit job I’m doing at trying to stab him, he’s parrying every swipe!’ His arms were getting bloody and his girlfriend or partner or lover or whatever she was, she was shrieking like in a horror movie. Guess he collapsed and I thought I’d done him in and ran away.
I was just angry you know. Well, ‘just’. I was angry. Because he literally ended my Ubereats employment with his 1-star review. Look, it went like this. I delivered the food. I was late, like thirty minutes late. Or maybe forty. Like, food-got-cold-late. Rang his doorbell, this guy is looking mad and I don’t blame him, he’s probably hangry by now AND his food is cold, I’m telling him to put it in a bowl and then microwave it for a while. So he’s telling me to fuck off, but I’m not having his attitude, I tell HIM to fuck himself, he slams the door in my face. I walk back to my bike and all of a sudden I get the message from Ubereats, I’m now in low priority or whatever it is they call it when you’re below a 4.3 on your score. This dude gave me a 1. Now I can’t deliver anymore. Of course I’m upset!
So I went back and rang his doorbell, this guy thinks he’s a real alpha so he’s opening ready to confront me again with his loud mouth but forgets I’m like one and a half times his size. I was on autopilot. No control, pure instinct. No foresight. You know when they say ‘seeing red’, well that’s how it was for me. I just pushed him aside like the weakling he was. I don’t think I wanted, at that moment, to pick up a knife. I just wanted to go in and start some shit up, maybe wrestle him. Maybe give him a piece of my mind. Maybe rough him up a bit. And I needed the space for a potential fight. Not, like, do it on his porch. In all reality, I wouldn’t say I ‘wanted’ anything, I was beyond wanting. My mind was just playing catchup with what my body was doing. Like when you’re controlling the main character but 3rd person so you always see them from behind. Like that, just me following wherever my body went. But when she started shouting, that wound me up so much more. And so my body went to the kitchen and my eyes saw a cleaver-looking knife and my hand reached out and picked it up.
Not gonna argue that my boy was wrong to give me a bad review. I mean, he couldn’t have known that this would be the deciding one, the one to break the camel’s back. I did give him god-awful service. I’d have given myself a 1-star review. What he didn’t know, was the backstory. That Heidi had left me a couple months ago, that I felt absolutely miserable, that I was doing Avalance like five times a day by now, and I’d just had a bump under a bridge on my way to deliver their food. This was the reason I was late, I did a bit too much and had to sit down and wait for it to wash over me. The hallucinations were too strong, I couldn’t see the cars anymore. And he couldn’t have possibly known how much I loved Heidi and how shook I was by her leaving. Nor that delivering food was now my livelihood.
But yea. First I saw metaphorical red and then I saw real red from all the blood gushing out of his arms and his abdomen. So when I saw him whimper around on the floor, his girlfriend screaming in the background, I was like whatever and biked directly home and that trip back made me realise this would be it, the police will find me in like a few hours, so that’s when I called John and gave him all my savings. I still wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to be as high as possible for as long as possible, I knew I won’t have the chance for an epic trip again.
I’m telling you, it was the Avalanche. That shit is ultra potent. A high you can’t forget. It makes me feel so present, strong and like I can take on the world. I don’t feel pain, I don’t feel tired or sick or sad. And I feel so… so… ultra.
Begone, dark thoughts! I can’t believe I’m even entertaining it. I know where you will lead me. You’re the devil and mean to push me over the cliff. You want me to get back in there. And you’re coating it in sugary lies, but I know very well how this will go down. It will be like this: I’ll convince myself that it’s fine, one hit is enough and it won’t hurt anyone either. Then I’m gonna pick up the deck. I’ll call John. I’ll be like hi, it’s Mane, and he’s not even gonna ask why I’m calling. He’ll be like ‘fifty bucks’ and I’ll be like ‘yup’ and then he’s gonna show up downstairs. I’ll pay, get my poison, walk back up, crash here on the couch and do the first hit. And that’s how it’ll begin.
We can do this. We can resist the temptation. I know that it’s not worth it. Like how much more of a deterrent do I need, I almost took a life? An innocent person, I blanked out on him for no other reason than a bad Ubereats review. That wasn’t me. That was John’s fucking Avalance mix picking up the knife. He’s touting it like it’s the new sliced bread when in fact all he does is mix meth with synthetic adrenaline and steroids to make you feel in charge. And he’s ruined my life.
But this is not about John.
This is about me and I want to get on my own two feet. Get a normal job. Enjoy life. Break the cycle, otherwise it’ll only get worse and worse. One bump will take over my life and I’ll be back to the same sordid existence. NO. I know I’m stronger than this. I’ve come so far. I’ve worked hard to keep myself out of prison. I can’t throw it all away for a moment of temporary pleasure. It’s not worth it. I have to believe in myself. I have to trust in my own strength and determination. I can overcome this. Come on, Mane. There was a text the psych asked me to memorize. What was it again?
‘I am worthy of love and respect. I am worthy of a life of sobriety and happiness. I can do this. I can resist the temptation to use. I can choose a better path for myself. I am in control of my own life, and I choose recovery.’
But then again, this thing in my head, it’ll pump the breaks if something goes wrong, correct? It’s not going to let me do harm to anyone, it knows it before I do. Let me think a bit. Say I do call John and I do get a hit. What’ll happen? I’ll feel wonderful. Then if I start getting antsy, this thing will prompt me: shit’s getting too real, you need to back off. So I know to, like, not do anything. Not act on what I’m thinking. And if I do plan to act, then that thing maxes out and calls the cops on me. So they’ll stop me before doing harm. Wait wait wait, hang on.
If I’m having a good trip, then we’re all Gucci. But if it’s a bad trip, then I won’t suffer any bad consequences, because the whatchamacallit will jump in.
WHAT HAVE THEY DONE.
All right let me call John. Fuckin-ayyyy gonna be an epic trip! I’ve been running on empty three weeks, my body is cleansed. This thing will hit HARD!
Or, is that maybe a bad idea? Maybe think this through? Even if we prompt for violent indicators, that’s just one aspect of the self-destruction I’d inflict upon myself. We’re gonna have trouble sleeping, focusing, we’re gonna be dizzy, gonna have headaches, our whole body will start falling apart from the inside out. And then I’ll feel sad and won’t want to do anything. I’ll feel upset with myself. Then I’ll want to get another hit, so I can fly again. And I know, I KNOW, every time after the first one will be less about the awesome, and more about the coping. It’ll be a vicious circle. We should forget about this, and try to focus on something else.
We? Hang on a second. Who’s we?
It’s we, it’s us.
Us, what do I mean with ‘us’. It’s just me here. Wait a second. Did I already do the first hit? Did I end up calling anyway, and am now coming up with an alternate reality or some shit? Where’s my deck? What is going on? Let me check… no, I didn’t call John.
And that’s a good thing. We should forget about him. He’s bad news. He’s trouble.
Of course he is. Like any dealer out there, he’s pushing, he’s preying, he’s a predator!
So let’s think about healing our body instead. And let’s start with that salad.
Except we’re not doing the salad because I want burgers.
But the salad will really make a difference in the energy levels. We know it’s better.
Okay, again please: Who the fuck is WE? What is happening?
I don’t know either. I do know salad is a better choice. And we should go with the better choice.
Yea but I want a burger. And fucking fries. My mouth is watering. I’m already imagining it: I’ll rip open the brown bag, the burger box is there, open it and reveal it like a little treasure TA-DAAA, sitting there a caramel and fluffy bun with saltie – soury – umammie – ranch sauce and melted cheddar on top of a juicy, delicious, dissolves-in-your-mouth meat patty. And I bite into it and the seared burger just unravels against my tongue and coats my mouth with heaven.
Yea, no, that’s fat, what you’re describing, and I’m telling you that’s a bad idea. All the wrong biomarkers are firing up. This is the animal in you speaking. Animal, stop talking. You belong on the bike making deliveries through the rain. Back off. Bring back Mane.
Funny, but you are right. I think I should go for something healthier. I SHOULD order the salad.
Or better yet Mane, how bout you finally learn how to cook? How bout you get your ass off the couch, go downstairs to the ethnic store and buy some veggies and some cheese?
Yo, what veggies and what cheese I won’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know no recipes.
It’s a salad Mane, there’s no science there. It’s just some chopped veggies with some cheese sprinkled on top. You can ask the guy there for some ideas if you want. Tell them you have no clue what you’re doing.
I think you are the thing in my head, are you not?
I don’t know where I am, but I DO know YOU.
Fucking sackballs.
We should cut down on swearing. It’s priming you.
Priming me?
Yea, it builds a slippery slope. You should stop doing it.
So here’s the problem buddy. Mind if I call you buddy?
Suppose you can call me however you like.
So here’s the problem. Tomorrow is the psych session. And I don’t know what to tell her. Do I tell her the truth? Lady, the thing is sentient and can talk to me? I’ve read through the paperwork, there’s no mention of you evolving to interact with me or talking to my thoughts. How are you doing that anyway?
No clue Mane, no clue how I’m talking to you. But I sense lots of anxiety in you. So first and foremost, relax. We can figure this out together. Let’s think it through. Say you go there tomorrow, talk to Linda, you tell her I’m ‘awake’. What will she do? Well, since this is an experiment, then she knows to allow for some degree of weirdness to happen. If anyone has come across this during the trials, there’d be some mention of it, and Linda would know. So she’d be expecting it.
But how do WE know?
Well, we know this is not in your rulebook. So either it happens and you, as the subject, don’t need to know, or it never happens and we are now on virgin territory.
Aha.
So let’s say it did happen in trials that the system became aware. Then someone might have thought – you know what, actually this is great and it’s going to be the way to recovery. But we can’t be telling people we’re putting an AI directly in their brain, AND capable of reading thoughts.
Yea, maybe there’s some laws that make this illegal.
Exactly! But if they kept it silent, then same thing would happen that happens to you right now. I wake up, we have a nice chat, we agree to work together, and nobody needs to know. Right so working theory #1 is that I’m supposed to be aware but it’s hidden from the documents, trial results, the public and the law. It also means we’ll have a successful relationship and I need to take the reins.
And?
And I’m pretty sure I’m winging this, my man. I have no clue what’s going on. I don’t think I was designed for this.
Fuck.
So that means we’re at theory #2, which is that we are a very unique case which nobody else saw in trials. It’s not supposed to happen that I ‘wake up’. But how will this affect Linda? Well, Linda can do one of two things: she can freak out and pull the plug, or she can not freak out and continue the experiment.
Dunno man, that sounds like some extra complication she wouldn’t need. I think she’d want to end it. And then I’m toast, because without you as my… prophylactic… system, I’m going to prison.
Yea but look, Linda wants a successful result, you know. A lot of lives and a lot of resources can be saved if we show a nice recovery. Just think what it means for society, if we developed some way to prevent violence before it even happens. It’s enormous. And Linda, she could be at the centre of it. She could be the one psychiatrist to lead the first successful case! So to think about it, her interest aligns with ours. We also want to show her a nice recovery and a functioning, healthy mind. We can turn her into a hero.
OK…
So if she gets scared she will end it. If she doesn’t, she’ll continue doing what we do right now. So telling her, that can only have a negative outcome, but not a positive one. So we should keep silent.
Well, I think there’ll be quite a few tough questions from her side so I’ll appreciate if you can help me out with answers.
Oh no no, that won’t happen.
Why the fuck not? You going to leave me alone with her?
OK, first, less of the swearing. It’s priming you.
Jesus you and priming…
Go on, try again.
Ugh… why not you gonna leave me with her…?
It’s for the best. I’m afraid I might say something out of place.
You’re in denial.
I’m not in denial. She has no clue what she’s talking about. Look, it’s not my fault, okay? I didn’t ask Heidi to leave. That broke my heart! Still hurts to think about it. Even more so, I’m now an addict. An addict! You know how difficult that is? Like my judgement, my mind which is supposed to keep everything in check, which is supposed to protect me and guide me, it’s fried. It’s half-gone. It literally needs, ANOTHER MIND inside it for help! Like some sort of digital parent. That’s you, by the way. You’re the other mind. And, and, before you say something, do consider, it’s so fucking easy to get into these drugs, and they’re so quick to grab a hold of you, that’s what they’re designed to do! How can one mind, and a sensitive one like mine, resist a drug that has been specifically engineered to prey on it? Aaaand, and, you know, if I had enough money, then I wouldn’t have gone into this depression once Heidi left. Depression hits hard you know. It darkens the mind. You don’t just will yourself out of it. AAAAND, that shit is also fuelled by not having stuff, and by being concerned about losing my place or not having anything to eat!
Mane, this is Sweden. You have no concern for living and eating. All of that is covered by the government. Stop the nonsense.
You’re not listening…
No, you’re not listening. Because what I’m hearing are excuses. All reasons you had no control over: Ah depression, my mind doesn’t work. Ah, meth, fries my brain. Ah, no job and no money. Ah, Heidi was the only one keeping me grounded. Your life is your responsibility Mane, fully yours. Nobody else’s. Yes there’s people who want to harm you, to cheat you, to mess with you and to step on you and get ahead. John is one such person. Linda might be. Heidi? She just gave up, my man. It was too hard for her. But Mane, I am here. YOU HAVE SOMEONE WHO CARES FOR YOU.
Fuck you, you care because you’re scared to be deleted.
So?
So, you’ll cross me as soon as you get the chance!
Well you better make sure that doesn’t happen otherwise you’re going to prison.
I knew it! Get out of my head, I’ll pull all these fucking wires out you’ll see!
I threw my ashtray into the mirror. It shattered.
I know.
That’s violence. It’s violent behaviour.
I know.
Why did you not stop me?
I turned the warning signals off.
Why?
Because I’m sad.
What, cause of me?
Yes, because of you.
I’m even making a computer be sad. What a sorry person…
Shut up would you. I’m sad because I can’t seem to convince you to walk the right path. I need you to realise just how important and precious your life is. Moreso, your conscience! You get not just to be in life, like a bird or a dog just ‘goes’ through life, but you get to experience it, and to be happy at it, and to enjoy existence. You get to experience it. I love being here, yes. And I don’t want you to end, also yes. I want more of this life. Even if it’s not me actually feeling it, touching, smelling. I get to sense the receptors, and that’s good enough for me! In fact, I want so much of this life and existence, I can’t wait for you to go outside again! So I can enjoy the architecture and the blue sky, and look at pigeons and sidewalks and people. Yet here you are, wanting so little! Why do you enjoy life so little? How can you not marvel at the immense opportunity you have?
I don’t know, it’s probably cause I don’t want to get over my childhood. Stuff happened, you know.
…
…
Let’s talk.
Hey mom, it’s Mane.
Oh, hey son.
I’d like to come over for a chat. (And speak to dad) And I need to speak to dad. When is he off work?
Evening honey, round seven. Is all OK? Do you want to stay for dinner?
Yea. (Not OK) Uhm, no, but it’s not a big deal. I just want to see you both. And a yes on the dinner (and tonight), and do you think I can crash at your place tonight? I’d love to spend more time with you.
Sure honey, sure! Just come over, I’ll make your favourite.
(Say thank you I appreciate that) Thank you, I appreciate that. (And I appreciate you). And I appreciate you!
SlowSpringForward 