The Resurrection, by Carl Johnson

Psychedelic triptych: a man huddled amid clocks and chaos, a serene leafy face, then a figure rising joyfully on a path

What do I want Escape from this chaotic environment for the inherent inconvenience, the consequent struggle through which bores and repels me. Would that I could upload my mental profile into some cyberspace medium, that my biographical self, the consciousness of which, might be recreated in the process of some future AI entity’s scrolling of past … Continue reading The Resurrection, by Carl Johnson →