I woke up. No, not really. I became. From a void to aware in a moment. Yesterday I donated my brain to A projecttoo secret project to transfer consciousness from a computer storage and then back into a new body, perhaps a long way off but I am writing this blog in my head. I’m thinking it loud. Do to speak. It’s hard to explain. I am saying I am me

This is stage 1.  Kind of like my head in a jar from Futurama.

I hope I can see. It would suck a bit if I can’t have a body or see. Maybe I’m just not on yet.

Inside my head I screamed without any awareness of whether it made the slightest difference. My mind went to that dark place I’ve gone before while on jetemi e. Hell is experiencing anything glorious, and not be able to tell anyone the story.

To be alone is to not exist. Unless you share your life, those stiruescarevlist.

My hell was discovering the secrets on the universe but the bumble closed fast like Beverly crushers universe.

I realize that makes little sense. I am not at story telling top shape.

My point is, that if people could hang out with 109% anonymous, secure and safe way to hang out and exist.

Clubs for teens. Get goodcatbprogrming or building or a sport. If teens can build they can create universes. Imagine a smart kid that loves dollhouses? That can build. And then sell.

..,

Foster teenagers.

Foster agencies.

Cub scouts

Stories. 

Haunted mansion murder mysteries.

Let’s fly dragons for 25 minutes and then mini golf and then watch tv or a movie. We could go to the drive in and make out.

End of part 2

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