Simulation Theory

Him: There's this moment. Just a flash in a pan shaped Sun- eternally blazing. Refusing to explode. His subconscious: You have experienced this before. It will happen again. But, it doesn't matter. Nothing does. You're just a cycling force of energy, vain enough to think you have any sort of impact; or control of anything. The truth is: you're alone. You always have been. Him: And I'm usually in my car- just before leaving home. It's early morning and quiet. My hand is at the ignition. Foot on the clutch. And, I just stop and look through the windshield. I watch limbs sway and nature flourishing. And I revel in the malpractice of peace- wondering why this nebulous moment is the only time I feel any sort of hope. That glass between the world and I. My hands on the ignition. My foot ready to release the power of a mechanical heart; While my own saunters into a sort of surreallity. And, then I exhale. Turn the key. My radio blares. But, I don't hear the music. The peace is gone. I can't concentrate. I immediately want to go back inside and sleep. For as long as I can. His subconscious: You are everything. You are nothing. There is no one else to care. If there was, why would they? Her: Wow. Honey, I don't really know what to say. We all go through these sort of things. Have those feelings- thoughts, at one point or another. I'm anxious all the time. But, it's just mind over matter. You know? You've just gotta be strong. Like I know you are. He smiles, and nods. "You're probably right" In the bathroom his eyes meet the mirror. Closer and closer. He tries to peer inside. Attempting to see the cogs turning. Trying desperately to understand. Hazel eyes reflect hazel eyes, and he is left wanting. Alone. Terrified by the idea that if he goes back into the bedroom he'll still be talking to himself. That he'll still be eternally cycling. Trying to love an illusion that he created. -James Kelley 2018