"Raw Data" - Short Story
Is there no escape from yourself? Where do we simply go when we shut off, when we unplug from the constant inputs of raw data that is reality, or do we unplug? I guess some people do and some people don’t. And how do we interpret the visual inputs that the brain gives us if the image is so disturbing that all you want is to gauge you eyes out and then realize that it was a dream, what the fuck does one think of himself then? Damn, I guess all we can do is sit still and enjoy the ride. My own ride is a rain drenched back alley on Kiguru Street on New Caldari and the corner bar at that street, Spader´s. It was an image that stuck to me early on when I got these implants, when I knew that I would be plugged to a massive steal beast and become a living machine to wreck havoc amongst the void of space. I needed a place to hide, to escape the constant inputs of raw data. The corner door is best described as shady, an almost criminal invitation with bright flickering green text "Spader´s" that illuminates and reflects in the humid air in front of it. Maybe not the normal place where you would find a "good" citizen, but it’s where my mind goes and escapes the other reality, I find myself here quite often, far away from the constant inputs of raw data.
I need a drink.