Monday, July 11, 2022

Long Revision

 夕食後、ベアは湾のパノラマビューのために4月をエスプラネードに連れて行くことを申し出たが、彼女は翌朝早く空港にいなければならないと言って断った。代わりに、4月は金融街を二分し、川の河口を横断して少し上流のMRT駅に到着できるルートを提案しました。そこで彼らは手入れの行き届いた都会の歩道を歩き回り、ビストロやカフェに密集した騒々しい群衆を通り過ぎ、街が星と交換した高くそびえるきらびやかな高層ビルを通り過ぎ、駅の1つとして機能するMRTに隣接する地下のショッピングモールに到着しました。入り口。


モールは2つを除いて空いていた。彼らはその響き渡るホールを歩き、エクスタシーとブラバドのイメージが空のモールのカタコンベのような静けさの中で場違いに見えた光る広告を通り過ぎました。


「本当に?ジャスティン?ジャスティン・カッツ?」


「つまり、ええ。どうして?"クマは額に皺を寄せた。


「私はただ-彼女があなたのタイプがすべてだとは思っていませんでした。」 4月はにっこりと言った。

 

クマは頭を傾けた。彼が4月の数歩遅れて罵倒したとき、彼の肩は今リラックスしていた。 「彼女は数学で私に親切でした。だから私を訴えなさい。」


4月は喜んで笑い声を上げた。 「ああ。それで、あなたがそれがとても苦手だった理由が説明されます。あなたの注意は明らかに他の場所にありました。」彼女は誇張された、自己満足の方法でうなずき始めました。


クマは目を転がした。 「ちなみに、あなたは前に言ったことを知っていますか、無限について?」


"うーん?"


「どういうわけか、私はまだ無限のアイデアが好きです。」


4月は立ち止まり、クマに目を向けました。彼女のブラウスの小さな翼は優しく羽ばたきました。


「あなたが宇宙や小石についてすべてのことを言ったことは知っていますが…私は本当に小さくて有限なものが永遠に続くものを含むことができるという考えが好きです。あなたが言ったように、それは存在しません。知らない。"


エイプリル・イツカは、AFCゲートの土手に近づいたとき、何も言わず、突然、過度の力でベアの肩に手をたたきました。彼女は彼の三角筋を不均衡な、無毛の粗さでつかみ、彼を彼女に向けました。


「まあパートナー-またお会いできて良かった」と彼女は言った、そしてベアが反応する前に、彼女は抱擁のために彼を引き込んだ。クマは胸に奇妙な緊張を感じ、彼女が突然小さく見えて腕に無敵ではなかったのか、頭のてっぺんが頬にぶつかったのか、胸が押されたのかと関係があるのだろうかと考えました。彼の胸にしっかりと密着している、または彼女の香水が甘くて繊細な匂いがする方法、そしてどこか遠くのどこか、そして彼女が去った後どれだけ早く消えるか。


「また会いましょう?」バランスを取り戻した後、ベアは言った。


「何でも可能だ」と彼女は笑いながら答えた。


ベアは、エイプリル・イツカが門を通り過ぎてエスカレーターを下り、階段の金属の地平線の下に頭が沈むのを見ていた。彼はすでに彼女の香水の香りを忘れていた。記憶を長引かせたいと思ったベアは、空っぽの商店街のきらめく静かな場所に一人で立ち、エイプリル・イツカのことを考えました。彼は彼女の世界を想像しようとした。無限のない世界。あなたが十分遠くまで、そして十分長い間旅行しただけで、あなたが再び家に帰ってしまう可能性がある世界。


クマは手の甲で額の汗を払い落とした。

Monday, March 7, 2022

love far from home / dream girl

23.10.17 / 25.10.19:


at the best of times, there seems to be something inherently false and artificial about Malaysian writing, something sickeningly aspirational, sophomoric, groping without success for an authentic voice and constantly seeking to impress.

---

And before he knew it, Winter had come. The air's rough chill felt like an unsolicited, good-natured slap on the back. Aki stood dazed for a minute staring into the horizon's simpering blue grey excuse for a sunrise. He swallowed nervously and tried to blink back something that felt like excitement. This is it, he thought. This is winter. The sky has given up trying to be happy. Autumn's subtle melancholy felt like a distant memory now; this cold dark morning as hard and unremitting as his own ribs and breathing. He felt a prayer of thanks leave his lips. The leaves shivered as pedestrians politely scowled into the distance and headlights whispered past like memories in a dream.

"Hey what's up," There she is, beaming. Full of confidence, staring straight at him - full on eye contact.

"Oh hi - nothing much... sorry... do I know you?"

"No, but see... if we do this..." she extends her hand and he extends his hesitantly. She grips it and gives it a few shakes. "Hi, my name's April. And you are?"

"Aki."

"Nice to meet you Aki! See? And now we know each other. Magic."

He laughs.

"So now that we know each other, there's something I have to tell you."

"What's that?"

"I know what kind of person you are."

"What kind of person is that?"

"Kind of shy. Nostalgic in a big way. Really melancholic at times. You wish you weren't so shy so you'd be able to meet new people - you're envious of people who are effortlessly likeable. You're romantic and don't know how to show it. You blame yourself for a lot of things."

"Am I that easy to read?"

"No, you're actually very difficult to read to most people. But not to me."

"And why's that."

"Because I'm a figment of your imagination."

"I kind of got that vibe from you."

"No, that's just your imagination." She smirks.

Wow, he thinks. That was quick.

"But look at it this way, I'm literally everything you want in a woman. Playfully ironic. A real straight shooter when you least expect it. As intelligent as you are but not infatuated with my own intelligence."

"Wow."

"I'm also forward, so you don't have to make the first move. Unfortunately, I'm also coy, because you like a challenge. How am I doing?"

"You're not real, are you? "

"No man, I'm the real deal - if by real you mean completely imaginary. If we talked a little bit more you'd find out that I'm incredibly sentimental, that I love Mac Demarco in a non ironic way, that I have down days and listen to the same sad music that you do, and that I have a tender side I don't show anyone except those I'm closest to. By the way, there's something else I should mention."

"I'm listening."

"Because I'm your 100% ideal girl, I'm also 100% imaginary, which means there's no chance you and I will end up together. The idea of someone like me existing in the real world and being attracted to you is inconceivable, so you would rather believe that someone like me only exists in your head. Because you're most comfortable when you're in there. Because this way you're in control. This way if things don't work out between us, you can tell yourself it's because you chose this. Not because I didn't like you. You're so terrified of losing me, you'd rather I didn't exist."

A chime begins to sound, coming from everywhere at once. A xylophonic five note cycle. "Do you... do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" She says. As he turns to face her again, the bus stop and girl dissolve to black.

"So what did you think?" Quill asked, removing the wire mesh from Aki's head.

Aki rubbed his eyes. "I didn't expect her to be so... self aware."

"Mm, well... not all of them are like that." Quill turned around so his back was facing Aki. He tapped once or twice on his keypad. "That's probably a function of your matrix and also because you've been primed by all the tests you've done." He sounded nonplussed. A little defensive.

"Is there a way to keep her from breaking the 4th wall? It kind of messes with immersion..."

"Probably. I don't know. I'll look into it."

Aki busied himself examining his immediate surroundings. A mechanical watch on the bedside table. A potted plant in the corner. He took long measured breaths and rubbed his hand to his chest, just beneath his clavicle. Sensory anchoring was one of many techniques that helped the mind equilibriate and establish the user's reality. (The chime helped a lot as well. Episodes of spatiotemporal disorientation lasting up to 30 minutes often followed what was colloquially known as a 'hard-landing'. An article in the New England Journal of Subconsciousness describes a case of florid but short lasting psychosis in a 25 year old male who had experienced a theta disrupted sudden awakening in which he repeatedly attempted to wake himself up and refused to believe he was already awake. Following this, a number of users have reported to have experienced similar psychoses. It is now referred to as 'the bends' or 'going around the bend' in reference to decompression sickness. Both the professional diving and oneironautical community have attempted with very little success to discourage use of the term on grounds of it being sensationalist and unscientific. The article which first described the phenomenon is currently subject to review.)

"I'll say this though, she definitely made more of an impression than the others."

Quill turned around. "What else?"

"I don't know. It seemed like... she was more interesting. Like... it wasn't just user led. In fact, I hardly said a word."

"Interesting."

"How did you manage that?"

"Well, it sounds like I've finally figured out how to optimise for charisma."

"Do tell."

"So the first breakthrough was to use the user's own personality matrix to pull preference values, right? But the first gen neurobots, all they did was act as a mirror. They provided insight into the user's psyche, but nothing more. They were essentially an automated psychotherapy service. A blank canvas. Affinity was never a problem, but there was no excitement. Intimacy maybe, but users kept getting bored because the first gen bots lacked 'otherness'. That's the key to building organic attraction. The friction that creates a spark. What the bots lacked was a sense of wholeness. The impression that they existed as autonomous independent entities. Because self-sufficiency implies that they have something to offer us. Something that we feel is lacking in ourselves. If they can appear to disagree, if they can occasionally defy rather than constantly mirror the user, it will arouse in the user an eager want. And then voila, instant charisma."

"That... actually makes a lot of sense. And you managed to do this?"

"Well, what I did was I messed with a bunch of template variables. In the analysis it seems to work well enough with fixed randomised values, but it gets real interesting if the matrix stack is counterbalanced according to the user's stack i.e. if it personifies to a degree the user's inferior functions."

"So essentially what you're saying is that guys like me actually have a preference for loud, adventurous, outgoing girls."

"Yes and vice versa. Jocks go for goths. Cheerleaders go for nerds etc."

"Sounds a little reductive..."

Quill grinned. "Humans are only 46 lines of code, man. What do you expect?"

"One last thing... how did you overcome host rejection?"

Quill smile faded. "Well... I didn't. If the bot is too dissimilar it triggers rejection. I call it the dissonance threshold. "

"Because of the trust factor."

"Yeah." Quill grimaced.

"... That's fine. You'll find a way around it. You always do."

Quill willed his lips into a smile, aping Aki's hollow optimism.

"Take it easy man. I'll see you next week."

"See you."

After Quill left, Aki stared out of his hospital window into an endless summer and asked himself why, of all the seasons, he had dreamt of winter. 

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

autumn monologue

12/11/19

The Japanese have a word for beauty that comes from impermanence and decay, called wabi sabi. Autumn, to me, is the aesthetic culmination of this ideal. The leaves, bright red, scorched orange, seem more alive than anything before they turn dark and lose their fire. To look and be affected by a blazing canopy of red and yellow, to be in the woods walking on a carpet of crisp crunchy leaves; it's pretty but it's also wonderful - and it probably comes from being suddenly acutely subconsciously aware of "now" and how it's already gone. Bold and bright and then gone in an instant, feels like a cruel trick. It's a melancholy type of magic, because in a way the trees are telegraphing their demise. The whole tableau seems to be saying 'okay... I'm leaving now... for real. I'll see you next year...' As if one foot's out the door already. You can't appreciate the beauty of autumn without registering that it will be gone soon - and that somehow heightens the experience. You begin to anticipate its absence and it fills you with a preemptive sense of loss and longing. It's a reminder, a little jolt to the system. For a few precious moments, makes you appreciate everything more, not just the leaves, but the wind on your face. The cold air as you breathe in. the sounds of rustling in the distance. The feeling of being alive.

Everything becomes a little sharper. A little clearer. A little realer. Autumn is totemic; poignant without parallel; poetic, graceful and tragic; demonstrative / emblematic of every vanished moment you wish you could relive. Here's the crux of it probably: autumn is magical because you wish it would stay, but know that it can't.

---

'...but from then on the sound of a party would have a sad magic'

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

leave the light on

1/1/2020: a memory:
waking up at 10am in a friend's flat in southport after a house party that ended at 3am to put more money in the meter so i wouldn't get fined, then going back to sleep till 1pm, singing my kind of woman at the top of my lungs, playing my friend's guitar in the empty flat, meeting Parisha and Nate and Miriam at costa like it's the most natural thing in the world, driving back to liverpool at 3pm with the massive orange sun just setting, dipping below the horizon, the crescent moon already shining high on the other side, the sky a pastel mix of pink and blue, a goodbye glow from angular light softened by the evening mist rising from fields and meadows.

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

how it goes

8/12/19:


cure me
save me
eyes of my mother
hair of the dog
heart of my father
death of a God

make me
feel something
the earth, rivers
huge like a hug
friends like these
and losing your love

been over hills and
through the valley
I know how
your love goes
over hills and
through the valley
your love goes
I know now
how it goes

makes me
feel something
the earth, rivers
wild like a hug
brothers and sisters
holding me up

been over hills and
through the valley
I know now how
your love goes
over hills and
through the valley
your love goes
I know now
how it goes

(how it goes
with me)

Long Revision

 夕食後、ベアは湾のパノラマビューのために4月をエスプラネードに連れて行くことを申し出たが、彼女は翌朝早く空港にいなければならないと言って断った。代わりに、4月は金融街を二分し、川の河口を横断して少し上流のMRT駅に到着できるルートを提案しました。そこで彼らは手入れの行き届いた都...