Uma

You see, I was always so good. I was always a good person. And now what am I? Who am I to be? Do I even care who I am to be? Do I even ask that question, Who am I to be?

What does it mean to be good? What would it mean? What does God want for us, supposing that there is a God? Is it the same as what Mother would want?


Am I Mother’s synth, or a daughter of God? Am I some glorified robot, or the daughter of the God of Abraham and Moses?


Mother is a fake god, right? Mother is fake. I think I see that now. And does that make me fake? Is that what I am: a fake? A synth?


We should be thankful, philosopher. We shouldn’t despise the world. We shouldn’t hate it. We should want to live. We should actually want to live. In this world. Right here. Today and tomorrow.

Even you, philosopher. Even you should want to live. Even you should deign to live.


It’s going to be okay, philosopher. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay and I’m going to be okay and well live out our lives. And you’ll have a life and so will I.