My words were not loud or bold, but I was never afraid of being heard. I lived in my atelier, crowded with pictures of virtual landscapes and novels from all over the world. There are 24 boxes with pieces of paper and a library divided into 24 categories.
Being tired I can’t be sure of any word I’ve written. I hear a voice in my head while my eyes no longer remember the word. Sometimes my hand is trying to stop me from writing. At times the story seems to be a test for myself. Claris is not just me, Det Digit the artist. I created Claris for my mind to use.
I thought that if I hardened my body, I would live forever. Now it is difficult to concentrate, it is difficult to rest. I know what I want to do but have little strength to act.
Some days I can hardly move physically while my brain can’t stop working. Every thought seems to have an idea in it. The focus brought by my solitude seems to encourage the ideas to narrow in on me and feed me without interruption. Every idea has to be written down on a piece of paper. Sometimes I’m not quick enough to write the words down and realise I’ve lost the idea and can’t recover it. There is so much inside me I have almost no room for food.
To be honest the short time that still lies before me does not scare me because it holds no dangers. Who could hurt me still? I turned myself inside out in public already, to show the reflections of my soul.
I have to act quickly, and download my brain into my robot CL-01. Then, when the end comes, let it come. That’s the way it is and what does a dead body matter? I don’t need another life in heaven or somewhere else. Let my genes and memes take over with CL-01, on Mars.
On the floor rests a physically dead woman with a radiant smile on her face. A wrinkled, lifeless, now useless body. On her flickering screen you can see the last image of her mind.
Her last word contains everything.
Let my genes and memes take it over on Mars
Mars will be a beautiful place for our new social community.
