All This Life

Everything has a hum, a pitch, everything is an instrument in an interstellar orchestra and we are all together. Not only people. Inanimate objects make their music, too. Have you ever heard the beautiful vibrations coming from the Golden Gate Bridge? Each rivet, each speck of asphalt, each drop of paint is alive. It is more than a bridge. It is a vortex, an altar, it is paranormal, effervescent. It is our holy site. And once you and I have the opportunity to purify this world, we will all occupy a pristine earth, a cooler one, an inhabitable one, and our brains will work right. Once the congestion of gloom lifts, no more pollutants like sadness and disappointments and grief. We will learn from our mistakes. We can learn, Albert, despite all evidence to the contrary, despite the assembly line working toward extinction, we can learn. It’s the mice. That’s where I’m finding hope. In the mice. How scientists have started manipulating their emotions by shining lights in the brains. They can change memories in the mice, physical memories, take something that had been a sad association and make it happy. They electrocute a mouse until it’s scared of that locale, and then they manipulate that memory, they mold it into something positive, and they can map the mouse’s brainwaves to know there’s no fear anymore, there is no anguish, only bliss. We can do the same thing. We can drain pessimism out of people’s perspectives. We can show them that they are capable of more. Capable of actually enjoying their lives. They can feel the pure serotonin of trying, rather than whining or lamenting how things have turned out. They can strike out on their own to make a difference. They can turn off all their melodramatic emissions and experience a thought process naked of pain. We will rewire them, Albert. We will treat them like the mice. We can catalyze change, and the interstellar orchestra can play something different. A melody alive with possibility. It begins with a bridge. It begins with human sacrifice.

18

Hey Twitter, no1 can find me. How RU?

That’s the next live-tweet.

Jake is getting confused about the difference between live-tweeting and regular tweeting. Isn’t all tweeting live, seeing as how he’s posting things going on around him?

No time to fall down that tweet-hole, he guesses, especially since something amazing has happened.

TheGreatJake has broken 100,000 Twitter followers in the last day. He had a measly 282 and then the explosion happened. An article about him posted on SFGate.com, the Chronicle’s website, and that spurred some interest from local radio and TV and, just like that, Jake is a celebrity.

He is famous.

The legend of TheGreatJake has begun.

To think that yesterday he had been sitting in that therapist’s office with a hanging meringue of hand sanitizer, deciding to bolt. He wanted to shirk those adults and their misunderstandings; he deleted them and downloaded new media.