#rubberposting

“I don’t remember him,” I said after a while. “What, the other Siri? Pre-Pod Siri?” I nodded. “Nothing at all?” I thought back. “Well, he was wracked by convulsions all the time, right? There’d be constant pain. I don’t remember any pain.” My glass was almost empty; I sipped to make it last. “I—I dream about him sometimes, though. About … being him.” “What’s it like?” “It was—colorful. Everything was more saturated, you know? Sounds, smells. Richer than life.” “And now?” I looked at him. “You said it was colorful. What changed?” “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. I just— I don’t actually remember the dreams when I wake up anymore.” “So how do you know you still have them?” Pag asked. Fuck it, I thought, and tipped back the last of my pint in a single gulp. “I know.” “How?” I frowned, taken aback. I had to think for a few moments before I remembered. “I wake up smiling,” I said.

Maybe I'm a little TOO down for eating people but I feel like hands would be the most fun to pick apart

"Five times we did it. Over five consecutive orbits we threw ourselves between the monster’s jaws, let it chew at us with a trillion microscopic teeth until Theseus reeled us in and stitched us back together. We crept through Rorschach’s belly in fits and starts, focusing as best we could on the tasks at hand, trying to ignore the ghosts that tickled our midbrains. Sometimes the walls flexed subtly around us. Sometimes we only thought they did. Sometimes we took refuge in our diving bell while waves of charge and magnetism spiraled languidly past, like boluses of ectoplasm coursing down the intestine of some poltergeist god."

I am not sustainably sourced.