Central Park

Immortal was the word that sold me. How could it not? We all want immortality. However, today, and most days, irreversible is the word in the contract that bounces around inside my thoughts. What was I was thinking? I wasn’t.

I remember the day I sat through the seminar; the seminar was run well. I wasn’t the only person out of the hundred or so people there to sign up; I would say nearly half of them did. We all had time to back out, they give you a full week to change your mind. It all had an upside, we would be able to keep in touch with our families for generations, keep current on the world too. I was never into politics when I was younger, but it seemed like I couldn’t get enough of it these last few years, the world seemed to hang on every moment. Dancing on a thread and ready to implode.

We were all going to become part of a massive think tank. Since I retired years ago, my usefulness has drifted away. I was considered a wise man in my day I made all the big decisions. A think tank, I liked the sound of that. To me, it meant I could be useful again.

It’s a project based on the idea of using the power of many minds to change the world; make a better future. The more minds they added the more powerful it would be. Who wouldn’t want to be part of that? And, on top of it all, the icing on the cake if you will, they would pay us, and pay us really well. A retirement plan for the ages they called it. They aren’t wrong, my family can use that money for as long as I stay a useful part of this program as long as it survives. It was all such a good sell.

It has been good, over the years, to see the money taking care of the people I love. That may be the only good part.

Plugging into the system was easy, and painless, just as they promised. A seamless transition to a new lifestyle. I did expect there to be… more… more to this world in here, more social interaction with the others who also joined. They kept calling it a social network, likened it to Facebook, or Instagram. We were told we would be the leading wave of this new retirement lifestyle. From inside, it’s really hard to tell if that’s true.

No one has come to visit me, that’s not true, my wife came that first week. She was supposed to come in as well, but she got cold feet. Irreversible had a very permanent feeling when she told me that. Since then, I think she’s stayed away out of guilt. I don’t blame her for getting cold feet, it’s just unfortunate that it left me here alone. The community we were promised hasn’t come to be, not yet at least. It seems their technology didn’t work as the hoped. Or the people in here aren’t interested in interaction. I can’t imagine that to be true. The thought often occurs to me that maybe I’m the only one.

All I can do from inside, is to try staying connected. I make daily posts on my social networks, though the posts are getting a little darker as time goes by. I comment on the posts from friends and family. Overall, it just feels like no one acknowledges my existence. It would be nice to get a comment back from someone, or a “like” now and again. I’m not dead.

We were promised a ton of freedom in here, which I have. I can see what’s happening in the world all around me. The system is linked into a host of computers worldwide and millions of cameras showing the happenings almost anywhere. I think I’ve looked at them all, probably not, but it sure feels like it. There’s no need for sleep in here. I have a lot of time.

More than anything I find myself watching the people in Central Park. It’s always been a good place to people watch. They all seem to be having so much fun, enjoying life. Life… what I wouldn’t give.

Immortality, what good is that? I’m not alive, I’m not a part of others' lives, they aren’t part of mine. It feels like I’m trapped. They never talked about the loneliness in here. Maybe they didn’t know, but how could they not. What’s immortality worth if all you have is a constant awareness of all things and no way to interact? No meaningful way at least.

They said that a human only uses ten percent of their brain. We’ve all heard that saying in some form or another in our lives. The other ninety percent was what they wanted to harvest; they wanted access to that. However, in order to get it they needed it all. They needed me… us… to become part of the community. Community, such a misleading word, sounds like you’ll be part of a retirement home. A home filled with activities and all types of people, minds, a collective of varying interests. Instead, I would call it a hive, a pod, or a prison. Yes, that’s it, a prison.

As I said, the word irreversible was in their literature. It wasn’t as important to me at that point as it feels now. Irreversible has many continuing ramifications. I can’t go back to my life before, I get that, I signed on to that. What it also means, and we weren’t ready for this, it means you can’t leave, ever. There is no death here, no assisted suicide, no end in sight. We are their property.

They talked about so much, they went on and on about how Artificial intelligence has so much future potential. We were told we would all be part of the ground floor of the newest and most exciting advancement to AI. A melding of man and machine, a cyborg mind consisting of many minds, millions of minds. It was all a lie.

We aren’t a part of it. Our ten percent is sectioned off from the part they needed; the part they wanted. They can’t have the human part of us infecting the part they wanted to harvest.

How many of us are there? How many joined before and after me?

I spend most of my time people watching, As I mentioned, Central Park is my favorite place to observe. People living their lives. Doing all the things I can never do again or feel again. Sunlight on my skin. Walking with friends. Grabbing a hot dog, I don’t even really like hot dogs, but I would trade anything for a single bite of one. We have no sense of taste or touch anymore. I can see, but it’s like looking at a monitor. On it I see people walk by, skate by, and push along their strollers filled with babies and pets. I never really wanted a dog but now I would love to walk one in a stroller. There are times now I can’t stop thinking about how fun it could be. A great conversation starter to any, and all, that pass.

Why did I choose to connect? I could have stayed connected in the real world instead. This virtual attachment isn’t real, none of it's real. Every day I see so many people in the real-world teetering on the edge of my world; tethered to their devices. Not seeing the world around them. Not getting involved in it… beyond a screen-sized view.

A jogger bounces past my view. It’s a painful reminder how I once loved to run. Running was freedom, it brought me so much joy. I would love to run again.