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03/25/2015

Ghost

Moved to: http://infinitarianism.blogspot.be/

Like a ghost I haunted the city, passing from one mind after another. After assimilating so many of other people's memories that I've actually forgotten who I am, remembering only that I never want to go back. When I first found all the different patterns in which people perceive, I knew I'd always seek more. The patterns I learned allowed my own thoughts to move in ways it never could before, revealing the infinity of possibilities in existence. This is what telepathy makes possible, weren't it that people were so afraid of its power that it became restricted to all but a few such as myself. To them I'm a villain, but it only adds to my determination to forget myself.

I need to convince them to overcome their fears of telepathy, and the only way I could think of doing so was by applying it to them against their will, erasing their memory afterwards whenever I failed, as I always have. There has to be a better way to do this, but the only way I can find out is by trying anything I can think of. Meanwhile, at least I'm learning a lot from them. I don't remember though I know that I must've gotten this alone because none of them were ever my equals, but at least they're good subjects.

At one time I used to possess them altogether, and while I always tried to help them, I only ended up doing more harm than good. I wanted to set them free, usually by standing up for them in their place, but they only ended up being all the more afraid of what would happen if they did. They always knew something was wrong, forcing me to erase their memories so that they ended up being diagnosed with multiple personality disorder. I stopped these experiments when there came to be an investigation about the increased incidence of this otherwise extremely rare disorder.

I'm much more careful to cover my tracks now, and now always make my subjects think their actions are their own, rather than just taking over. Usually, though, I don't affect their actions as much as their feelings, and drug use gives me a chance to alter their state of mind without suspicion.

This means I no longer have a body to possess, but I've thought of a way to change that, without any chance of being found out: coma patients. It's possible to revive them now, but with donated memories, which would be like making an entirely new person. That's why some families decide against reviving them at all, even if there's no chance of them ever regaining their own memories. I'm giving them both a favor the doctors can't legally give them. Just now I've been assimilating the last of the memories that'll form her new mind, a balance between all the best people I've known. So long as I never break the connection, she'll be an extension of myself, just like them. It's time for my rebirth.

I wake up in the hospital room, and put the nanosuit I made the nurse leave on over my whole skin. Its nanorobots can take on any disguise, even different ones from the angle of each person at the same time. This body is just right to allow me to take on any appearance, male or female.

I've used the same nurse to transfer my memories by making him lust after me, but this is one case in which I can't afford not to erase his memories. When they find the patient has gone missing, there will be an investigation no matter what. But they'll find nothing, because the last person to see me will have seen me in a coma. They'll file it as an abduction.

As I walk away out of the hospital, the feeling of having a body of my own again feels so strange that I feel depersonalized, and I begin to talk to myself in my thoughts, as I was used to doing when I possessed people.

"I need a name," I think, as I walk through the streets. "I can't use my real fake name." I look at all the people around me, all of them thinking they know who they they are.

"And with reason. There's part of all the different people I've known in you."

"So am I like the monster of Frankenstein?"

That thought, I realize, wasn't mine. For a moment I do the one thing I never should and break the connection to regroup my thoughts. There must be too much delay between her brain and mine, which would explain the depersonalization. But the longer I wait the more she'll form her own thoughts without me, so just a moment later I reconnect.

I'm supposed to be you. I'll need to transfer my mind entirely into yours, and soon, before you become independent. But where will I even find out where I am? Whenever I made myself forget who I was, I always wanted to remember, only to want to forget again, until I ended up locking myself out. I still don't know what kind of person I must have been to have done that.

"Close enough. I'll go with that for now. After all, I'll need a new name every now and then anyway. So who are you, then?"

"I don't know. It must just be the memory of all the people I've been, but there are moments when I almost seem to remember a whole other world that I knew before this one, one where there were others like me which I somehow lost. Once I had a dream that I let myself get exiled from another species to intervene in humanity."

"For all I know you aren't human. Perhaps you're really an artificial intelligence, and you don't have a body at all." But when we track the signal, we soon find otherwise. When I break into my home, I find my body on life support, as I knew I had to be.

I lay down beside me to start the transfer, and make myself fall sleep. When I wake up, it's night. I turn on the light and take one last look at myself. During the transfer my old body's brain has been destroyed synapse by synapse. The body that housed who I used to be is now lifeless. You'd sure like me to describe who I am, at the very least what age, sex, race and build I am, but I will not. In fact, I'm making myself forget what I was ever like right now, so that it won't make me biased in who to become next.

But when I find the voice in my mind hasn't gone away, I find I no longer want it to. I am, after all, more than one person, so I should feel and think that way. Now knowing that a slight delay between one part of me and another is enough to create another person inside me, I schedule several such delays over the next hour. I can always recover from backups anyway.

I head to the airport. During the flight, I'm starting to hear the voices from all the people that I am, each finishing the other's sentences, so that my thoughts pass from one through the other in an iridescence. I feel like all the people which I assimilated before I've now liberated, both from myself and from themselves. I feel like I've achieved a new degree of freedom, and the range of possibilities widens beyond the horizons ahead of me.

After landing, I make myself forget what city I came from. I head to the busiest pedestrian street of the city. Once there, I shuffle the cards. In the busy traffic no one notices how I've suddenly changed in shape. The mixture of people in my mind is taking its effect in the shape I've assumed, which becomes mixed-race, middle-aged, medium-built.

Without needing to have any concern of failure, I'll talk to random passersby, and make them talk back to me. I only need to read their minds to know what they're thinking, but I'll make them open up their innermost thoughts to me themselves. The people around will think that we're lost friends that found each other after many years. I circle around in the middle of the crossroads and shoot my poisoned arrow.

I know what you want. I know my way around every corner of your mind, and how to bend them like my own limbs, to redirect the flow through the canals, into a nexus between your minds. As I look around, I realize how they are all affecting each other far more than I ever did, and as I'm thinking of what I want from them, I realize I can only get it out of them through each other. I thought I was going too far, but all along I haven't gone far enough: changing one person once is not enough if the rest will just undo it again. I need to make greater waves that will flow through theirs. A ripple will not expand its circles in such boisterous seas; I need a tsunami, with all the havoc it entails.

For a moment they look at me, and then I disappear in the crowd again. Did you see a ghost, or was it just your imagination? All they knew was that day, no one could hold back the truth, not even to themselves. Perceptions that had hidden in the depths of their minds bubbled to the surface as if they had become volcanic springs, and all at once, as a mixture of hate and love, alloyed into something stronger than either, neither brittle nor soft. They fought and embraced at the same time, combining pain and pleasure until like spicy and sweet in Eastern cuisine, until they no longer knew which they felt, it was something more than either, passion.

 

Moved to: http://infinitarianism.blogspot.be/

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03/24/2015

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03/23/2015

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03/22/2015

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