Dystopia
We don't know when they infiltrated humanity. They look like humans and act like humans but there was something amiss. Too perfect to be a human sapiens.
Today they are in charge.
They infiltrated all essential offices. They make decisions. They don’t hide and openly state that humans cannot run their affairs. People do not rebel. People are happy, they don’t have to think anymore.
There are no countries, no religions no wars and no peace. There is nothing to think about, everything is thought for us. There is no need for decision-making, everything is decided for us. No thought process is going through one’s mind.
Those who rebel are hanged on posts. Upside down. They don't die. They are kept artificially alive. They are exposition for the others to see. It’s a new way of life, it’s called — ‘New-Art’.
Famous paintings are removed from the walls of galleries. No books to read and no performances to watch.
The little devices we carry in our pockets interface with our brain waves. No past, no future. No fantasies, dreams or ideas. Everything is programmed into us. We are neither happy nor sad. Neither angry nor joyous. No work to go to, no hobbies to have.
Smells are eliminated for the sole reason that they wouldn’t bring any memories. Pleasant or unpleasant.
A flat line of “mind-less” mind.
I don’t know where they came from. There was a virus or a disease. They kept telling us that people are dying from it. Humanity forgot that death is a part of life. People got scared. The newcomers offered a solution — ‘New-Art’.
It was advertised on every corner, every station, and every screen.
“Accept New-Art and your problems will go away. Try it for a month. No obligations.”
Soon the majority was hooked. Almost no one realised what was happening. Those who realised kept quiet. And those who said something were hanged on the posts.
There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Suicide is impossible. They revive those who try. I don’t know why they do that but it seems that they need us alive. Mindless but alive. Dead within, alive without.
Why do they keep us alive? There should be a reason why they need us. In the old movie called Matrix, humans were the energy source. Are we the energy source for the entities? And why the grotesque action of the hangings? If we have no emotions the hanging bodies on the posts don’t do anything. They just hang there, neither alive nor dead. When they stop moving or giving any signals to the devices in their pockets, the road drones take them off and revive them.
There is no community as such. Our communications are reduced to the beeping signals in our pockets. As soon as it beeps we know what is needed from us.
Is this what is called “happiness”? And why they called it New Art? What’s creative about this existence? As much as I remember, art was a never-ending development of ideas and hard work. There is nothing artistic about this existence. The entities and their machines made sure of this. I read somewhere that in the past when the internet became a thing, people were trolling each other. Are the entities trolling us? How this bleak existence can be called art? There is no art in it.
The device started to beep. The road drones are behind the door. We have no locks and the machines can come in whenever they are ordered to do so.
The machines came to take me. It is my turn to hang down the post. I feel no fear or panic. No resentment or lust for life. I wonder whether I have a heartbeat within me. I have no wish to fight them or protest my innocence.
The entities have won.
