i love you, […
[signal faded.]
[/display]
[run]: [read]:
author: [Hughes, Paul] title: publication:
[system interject]: [deepblack]: [ops: eyes-only]: DESTROY AFTER READING.
Paranoid: Very High Schizoid: Moderate Schizotypaclass="underline" High Antisociaclass="underline" High Borderline: Very High Histrionic: Very High Narcissistic: Very High Avoidant: Very High Dependent: Very High Obsessive-Compulsive: High
[recovery team notes signal shatter; text incomplete.] [la biblio[“o]mnithèque universelle confirms textual probability to statistical significance +/-50%]
recovered excerpts:
…][I], Paul Evan Hughes, of sound body and questionable mind, do this sixteenth day of March, 2005 at 10:14AM, write this document in my own hand, which should be considered a holographic confession of my misdeeds and the wrongs for which I wish to repent. A fundamental confusion and misinterpretation of my intents this last decade has solidified my decision to subtract myself from this timeline and attempt to repair the damage that I have done. What follows is a brief account of the circumstances that effected this decision and the course of action I have undertaken to[…
…]was a desire to create a virtual space where kindred spirits could gather. Of course, the kindred spirits drawn to such a place were[…
…]transgressing the line between real and virtual spaces, hoping to validate that which I had created in a space that was not a space, a world outside of time and[…
…]and how much farther, how much further could we transgress? Maybe if I’d chosen a closer semblance of reality instead of that blurred[…
…]unrest appeared not long after the return to the digital world. Those drunken collisions of flesh, those muted penetrations and slicks of sweat[…
…]was complicit in that process. I am complicit in my own desolation. To surrender to temptation, to bridge the virtual and physical worlds, to give in to that desire to[…
…]giving in to loneliness. I knew then that it would all change, that[…
…][I] had birthed new notions of virtuality. Dissatisfied, I took it upon myself to destroy that world.
…]began the dissolution of the[…
…]before reaching the breaking point. It wasn’t long before[…
…]and yes, an ego the size of Sedna, an intense jealousy that at that gathering I hadn’t found the relationship that I suspected might arise from that breach of worlds. There are differences between electricity and flesh, heightened by observation from feet of air, not fiber. How many young men create and destroy empires of zeros and ones? How many young[…
…]speech almost a decade before, I had prophesied what would become the core of my unrest, urging my school to focus on the students, not on the then-new invention of the “information superhighway.” I sensed the impending societal shift from physicality to virtuality, and now, in these last days, I have seen the deadly results. Communicative technologies have created worlds that at first might appear to contain just as many inherent exceptions to truthfulness as reality, but I am now convinced that[…
…]asked me to define my concept of transgression. Is it my recurring practice of acquiring and exploiting others’ words and actions for my own purposes? Is it the desire to breach and destroy? Or is it perhaps the willingness to let strangers so far into my heavily-guarded, subjectively-constructed notion of history and “reality” that they can’t ever completely escape? I have no answers. I realize that I have lied, cheated, and stolen, as painter Jack Beal insisted I do in one of my first studio art classes in 1996, if I ever wanted to become anything in life.