The Rebirth of the returned.
I Can’t stop this war in me. Funny how this feels like déjà vu. Falling victim to lower vibrations surrounding me. Slowly suffocating in my mind. Cutting off my blood circulation to the brain. This isn’t my face. This body does not belong to me. I suppose if I would have traded those double A batteries I’d have a better cloth. Beggars can’t be choosers here in District 9. You’re probably wondering what a cloth is and district 9. A cloth is a nice way of saying a new body. Yea the higher ups finally figured out how to become immortal; in a sense. Am I soulless or am I collective consciousness? Hell I’m still trying to figure that out. A heart shaped Lockett holds every emotion, memory I’ve ever had from what I can remember. It’s silly, man has repressed its uniqueness into something so small, so fragile. I guess humanity should have seen it coming with all the technology getting smaller. Man I’d trade some shoe strings for an iPhone. It’s year 2084 in old Paris France aka District 9. No cars do not fly, but if they did I wouldn’t be here. Naturally I’ve died 24 times. Every time you reprogram, the number shows on the front of the heart Shaped locket. Maxing out at 30 reprogrammed cloths. Don’t think that you can get away, we’re all being tracked by the Major. The press of a bottom and you’re down. Programming fried with no hope for salvaging. Left over data in each cloth morphed with my locket. When in rebirth I can feel how the previous host died. It only last a second. Still some pretty intense trauma. I can’t remember my birth name nor any family. Thanks to this major dipstick and her General Isiki Mulero. I’ll get back to him and their army of hybrid humans soon enough. My friends call me Phoria; Anything but reality brings me close to familiarity and peace. They say my head is always in the clouds. I don’t know, something up there is calling out to me. Maybe its the split personalities from left over conscious residue. Hell those of us left all suffer from it. We’re all mad here. I’m going to put an end to this suffering. For all of us non-hybrids. My team The Strikers; are an underground unit of consciousness striving to find a solution. Something big is coming. I can feel it in my fingertips to my toes. You may be wondering how the world came to this, some idiot pulled an Atlantis on Earth. Obsessing with technology replicating the sun and moon causing another Big Bang. Most of the world is underwater. Europe still stands. Mount Everest. China, by the way im truly impressed the Great Wall still stands. And the Statue of Liberty. She’s the only symbol of Hope in the Eastern hemisphere. I have the perfect view here at home in the rugged Eiffel Tower. I feel on top of the world here. Nothing pretty but it works. I guess all isn’t lost. It’s a crime to eat meat so most people were forced to perfect their green thumb. Becoming vegan. Only the hybrids would come and take what they want whenever they feel with no remorse. They consider themselves the evolved man. Boy are they in for a rude awakening. I just know it. These visions I’ve had maybe hallucinations or intuition. I know I’m not the only one with these downloads from the stars. There are strength in numbers and ours are growing. The Major knows it. They’ve been panicking lately. Enforcing curfews. Random locket checks. There will be casualties in this war, but everyone is ok with that. Whatever it takes, we will rise.
