We’re just being rewound and replayed.
Just being made to walk on this beach and say things. And say all this.
Questions, questions. Does Mother ask these questions? Do you think she can answer these questions? Does she want to become a philosopher?
We’re Mother’s simulation. We don’t actually have souls. We don’t have insides. We don’t think. We don’t feel. She’s thinking for us. She’s feeling in our place.
Why does she want to listen to us? Must be something important she’s looking for. Some clue …
She’s looking for something – through us –
We don’t matter. It’s what we say that matters.
Work in Progress 