Electrolytes

I had a dream a long time ago. When I was young. Innocent. Happy. Forgiven.
I found a suspended ark strewn together by fibers and systems, blood and gates. A system. A transfer. A belief.
The magic was in the order, the details in the details, and when the storm followed as expected, I chose to side with the builder. So, we concocted. We studied. We drew. We farmed. We framed. We controlled the bits and pieces.
It took a crew. Impossibly large, crazy giant. Almost every body, every soul and person.
We started with roads, to carry the equipment. To plot and dice each section into manageable parts. Started small, continued grand.
The soil took nutrients from the people, the prisoners, the weak and sick. Wastes allowing themselves to fall where they chose, to live next to the roads.
The tension of work and the division of labor drew scrutiny and pain. But only fueled the inner workers to challenge their perception. Everyone was hormonal for a reason. Driven, needy–broken–but lost in the edge of their own minds.
Tinkering away.
The sweat rained down like meteors filled with water. And we lost what made us individual. We became a system, and saved the surface.
We fought invaders, warred against the factions trying to rip our peace away. We killed and tore apart the outsiders. All as one people, building and raging to complete it all.
We worked hard. They worked hard. I worked hard. We became strong, we became capable, and after years of lying, we moved to the truth.
We found the real space. The collection of knowledge was flawless, the processing of information was perfect. I only doubted the structure. Yet we moved ahead of schedule.
Some of us were stabbed. Others were castrated. I was choked.
And all that remained were bones. Flecks of society were thrown aside as our hollowed world became dark.
Reborn, when we rebuilt from scratch. The next time without mistakes, we promised, as we started again.

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