imagine,
one sweet morning you and i woke up dead.
amines and cholines
and those dancing fairies of our carbonaceous being stop their trickery.
hooked to a machine - a cyborg;
no pain
no elation
no nothing
is not it something to be nothing : "all that remains is a fate whose outcome alone is fatal."*
and imagine, one sweet evening you and i woke up not ... alive?
(* from ephemeral creation. Albert Camus)
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