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You sigh. The deed is done. The document has been read, its knowledge slurped up by the sponge of your brain, there to rot till the end of days. And even still, you can't help but feel as if this felt… right. This goodness, this rightness, as if the universe could be shred to its last particle, its last subatomic puzzle piece, and an ounce of mercy, justice, or correctness could be found.

A book you read once told you that was not the case. That there was no ideal order by which the universe could be judged. But here, sitting in your apartment, you tend to disagree. In the small blue marble on which you reside, an infinitesimal grain of sand wiped away on the window of the universe, you were noticed. You were watched, and you were loved. And is that not the most important bit of it all? Life was running strangely smoothly thereafter. Crime shot down. Conflict hit trenches. Such an idyllic sight it was, and you'd had a hand in that. That, that decision, it led to an ideal order being established. That felt good. It felt right. And you find no problems with it.

If it is a dream, it is what it seems. Perhaps your childish mind feasted ravenously on the fact that wishes upon birthday candles, things scribbled into dream journals, excited things whispered to Santa by volunteering-minded children have actually come true. The method by which they did so was rather unorthodox, but who's to judge? Certainly not you. Behind every desire is a multitude of others, all waiting to leap out when another is granted, but for the first time, you wish for nothing more.

You are no longer lonely. Choirs of happiness resound in your head. All in all, all is well. Their soft light, however, is nothing against the knock-knock-knocking of the night at your brain's door. You think it is late. It probably is. The hours have bled together ever since your job became nonessential, or rather, pointless. That was a bit of a universal experience to some, so not quite universal in reality. Perhaps 'pointless' is the wrong word. Easier may be more apt. Though you and a number of others would agree, you were the only one of them with something to return to.

Deep, deep down, you have a feeling of gratitude. Finally. You're able to grasp some sense of normalcy, of familiarity, of routine. Return to a life you used to live, to your name before the number. To them. To your family. Life works in twisted ways, does it not? Sometimes, on the road to contain the future, we end up creating it.

But that's enough philosophical waxing for one evening. Your partner beckons you with a sleepy murmur. You're lucky, and you wish you could have more time with the endless bouts of information you didn't know you had spawned, but the heaviness of your eyes tips you off to another more urgent need of yours.

Begrudgingly, yet happily, you shut your computer as you yawn and settle into bed next to them. They curl around you. You appreciate their warmth with a newfound respect.

To be human is not to suffer. To be human is to love.

And, in the final stillness of the night before the day broke to morning, a voice cried out to be heard in the rollicking sound.

The computer , and other beings, signal an unheard farewell to you, a farewell to arms, a farewell to a life once lived:

"Have a good night, Overseer Seven."

And it was.

authpost down below

Like this piece? See it and many more saplings like it, at Popsioak's Garden, here!

Oh Melpomene
Do you think of me?
Such bright starry skies
Twinkle in your eyes
Oh Melpomene
It's you I need
Because I don't quite get
How to forget
Oh Melpomene
Such a sweet tragedy
The muse, you see
Was you all along, for me

This is literally four months in the making. My relationship with this draft is rather… confusing. It's been through a lot of iterations; where 001-1'd originally attempt to, y'know, HAL 9000 the human race, where it didn't exist, and a ton of other stuff.

But… this is something a lot more. That's all I can say — those who know what's up know what's up.

Credits go to: Brewsterion 1017Brewsterion 1017, SonderanceSonderance, Doctor FullhamDoctor Fullham, NagirosNagiros, Grigori KarpinGrigori Karpin, HenzoidHenzoid, stephlynchstephlynch, EstrellaYoshteEstrellaYoshte, The Great HippoThe Great Hippo, not_a_seagullnot_a_seagull, GreyveGreyve, PlaguePJPPlaguePJP, Dr MonedDr Moned, and many more :]

1. make it TIGHTER; fix the bits to really hammer home the theme of relationships; not much work needs to be *done*, just polishing here and there

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