Cellular Civilization/Thomas

Thomas was a little worried. It had to have worked, but it didn't. It was the 101st time he checked his code. It was perfect; no flaw at all. He made a Rebuild All and compiled the executable again. He tried to run it and the same result. The program would not open! How weird. That was really making him mad. It wasn't fair, he had devoted the whole day, no, the whole week to that piece of software. And the changes he had made the last 10 minutes had spoiled it all. Now he would have to go back to the backup. Backup? Oh, my, he did not make any. He had planned to make it as soon as he finished! And now, what to do? Mmm, if he ever get used to using cvs or some version control system for programmers. Well, he had to backtrack everything until the last stable version. At least he had a shot of how it looked. Well, he thought, let's paste it.

/etc/lilo.conf

Damn! That was the contents of the clipboard. He did not paste the shot instantly, now he only had the memory of it. Having been there until very late those last nights were screwing everything. "Here we go, hands on it", he thought. His comment sounded a bit familiar to him, but he did not know why. Did he?

It was so boring. He liked to program in bursts, only "committing" to his backup after everything was good. He did not like to have unstable backups. But now he was regretting his way to do things. And the most important of all... why was he making that software right now? It was something unknown to him. He sometimes thought that we are just like silly bots who only obey our users. Because he really thought that all in his world was a simulation... even a wanna-be novel. It was absurd for everyone but he was pretty sure. There were some things that were so irk to be true. And then, it was the visions... Well, he did not want to remember them now, he was busy. Bot or whatever he was, he needed to have that software up or he would get no money. And no money meant no pleasure, meaning no girls. Well, it was just a way of saying it. How could you invite Cathy to go out without money? Or invite Jenny? He still could not say to whom he would invite... or if he would.

He was pretty stressed. He looked at his only watch, the watch on his PC. It was 3:34 am and he was still up, working like a m... workaholic. He did not like that term, it made silly comparisons between an alcoholic and programmers. Of course, the saying was not about programmers, it was about people devoted to work. But, if it wasn't work, what would it be? There was nothing like work. Of course, there was nothing as hard and boring as work. But no, work was not boring, at least for him. Right, there were many interesting things to do in life... but for those you had to feel "interested". Work was just doing a blind job and following to the last consequences. Love was cool but you don't feed with love, you can't eat or live only from love. Moreover, it was love itself who was feeding from people, like a parasite, sucking everything. Was it? Well, if they let it, love can fill the entire brain. But not his, never. That was why he had his own ways to avoid it... No time for that now. He was trying to get a stable version and he had to do it before dawn. He needed a little sleep.

Talking about that four-letter-word... Who would he invite? Jenny, Cathy? His love was so magnanimous that he was very often in love with more than one girl. Obviously, just in his mind, he was seldom engaged. And he could not do it now. Could he? Well, his mind was a complete mess now. AND YOU MUST SLEEP, he thought. Did he? He felt as if it were something he heard. Oh, maybe he was against destiny today. It was another of his original ideas. Sometimes, we go against the world, against destiny to make our own will. And the entire universe goes against us and does not let us do whatever we want to do, no matter how silly or simple it is. It seemed to him that this was one of those moments. Parallel to that, he started hearing a melody, right inside his brain. He had some musical abilities and when he was pretty stressed, he started hearing some melodies. He recognized it. It was Norwegian... he remembered a nice lady singing it. Now it started to fill his brain; but it was not love. But he could not. No! He was so stressed and tired he needed a break. And he took it...

Soon, he approached his bed, which was not entirely his, but who cares. He started practicing breath control. He completely closed his eyes and let the mental pictures go. He tried to imagine a complete black background. After that, he tried to concentrate on void. He was getting inside something very similar to dark matter. But then, it was the hardest part, to stop his brain processes, his thoughts, at least the conscious ones. He turned his attention to his breathing again. But he found something that was trying to break his concentration. That blue light he could see, even with his eyes closed. And that regular sound, a fan. Of course, it was his PC; he let it turned on. And how to turn it off without losing his concentration? Right, the master switch. He approached the wall and disconnected everything. Plus, he had a rope to turn off the lights. He did it. And then he could restart the special breathing he had learned. He tried to maintain the air inside his lungs for at least a "mental" minute. During that, he tried to imagine oxygen going to his cells, encapsulated in a biological molecule. After 2 minutes, his mind was getting calm. Of course, the same thoughts kept hunting him, the images of Cathy and Jenny and many of his "girls", who were not his, obviously. Soon, the images were fainting, replaced by blackness. And the music too... it could be very nice music, but his brain needed a break. And oh, he felt sleepy. But no, this was just a relaxation, he could in no way get asleep. Why not? Because he could not. He could have never done what some yogis are supposed to do sometimes. To enter the dream state in a conscious manner. But what if he could? The images came back again, forming a scene. What was it? He tried to go back to the black background but his efforts... Back to the breathing then. Well, he would just remember the issue at the airport. Maybe he could dream and act that situation again. It was soon after he got out from the hospital and...