How to awaken the dead

  There is a concept in science, called the holographic principle. It basically says that the world as we see it is a holographic projection. I mirage in a sense, and where does this projection originate from. Well, no one knows exactly, I am not even sure how I know myself. My name is John, John Edwards. I woke up here one day with the knowledge that this world is not what it appears to be. Over the years I met others with the same ideas, formed a group, per say. We are not a cult, we have no secret hand shakes or strange symbols that we wear upon us. Just a group of men an woman, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. There has been more before us, a legend, a myth perhaps. Its hard to say really. All we know is that the outsiders(as we call them, the ones that don't know) can not find out about this, at least not right now.
   There was a man, long ago. That came upon us and showed us the way. He told us that this world is not as it appears. That its kind of a holding cell. Telling us that the real world is grossly over populated, that people were spilling out of the seams. The governments of the world had no choice, had to act fast. So they put us in here,saying that its kind of like the holodeck on star trek in a way, where we are physically present, but everything else on the other hand, well who knows. He said that there must have been a bug or something in the system, that he shouldn't have remembered anything, like the rest of us. But for some reason something went wrong in his incarceration, and the government knew this. We tried as we might to save him, fought a long and tiring battle. But it was all for not. But.. we still move on, with his goals in mind, to find out the true nature of this place. For we will never be truly free, because a jail is still a jail, no matter how much you dress it up.
"Hey John!, John. We've got news, its not good, not good at all".  Thompson sits beside me, an continues to mix around the rice bowl he just ordered. We come to this place quite often, as its just down the street from my house. Its literally a hole in the wall, hardly big enough to hold maybe five people at a time." Is this about the procedure Tom?".
"I am sorry John, but we found nothing. No abnormalities of any kind. Nothing that could constitute in any way some sort of tracking device".
"What do you mean nothing?. Nothing at all? How could that be?". I was always positive that this would bring about results, 'cause they are finding us, and finding us a little too easily at that. All the signs we have, all the evidence, points towards this. But without any findings, its just.. hard to take in." I think we now need to start looking at the alternatives". Tom says in a whisper as the place starts to pile up, overflowing with people. Its late, and at this moment in time the people begin to come back from the bars and dives they find they need to be in order to be liked by everyone else. At least, that's the way I see it. "What alternatives are you getting at exactly?". I say with a slight pause, to gather my thoughts." Your not talking about... that is not exactly a popular opinion here, you know that right?". Tom looks exhausted, or worried, or maybe just outta sorts." Yeah John, I know, I know. But I don't see any other path. We tried everything John, everything!. You know what Einstein said about insanity right? That being insane is doing the same thing over and over and expecting  different results, well that's us John, that's us".
"Well either way, this is insane". I pause, taking in exactly what was said." You know what your saying right. This is going against everything that we believe, everything that He! Told us. This is not something that you can take lightly". The crowd now is starting to somewhat penetrate, people are pushing upon people and the white paper lanterns that hang from above are being knocked in circles against the many heads that tend to bobble against each other. Upon my brow, beads of water form, like rapidly melting ice. Like sitting aside the coalescing bodies of men, as if the walls are closing." You know, this place never felt like home, never felt right. Its as if my body is trying to reject an organ". Tom says, quite poetically. An in the background (above our heads) I can hear the screams of silence. They emanate, more than likely, from the owner from behind the counter. So the people slowly disperse an all who remain still wait in line to get there food. "I know Tom, I know. If we are to do this, you cannot tell anyone, not a soul. You go that. Because if this gets out, who knows what hell might unleash".
"OK John, okay. This stays between you an me". Tom says, finishes the last few bites. An getting up to throw the rest away, he continues." You have a goodnight John, I will be in touch".
   Outside, the rain has begun it's descent upon the earth. I can see the last few remaining people of the night huddled up against one another, as they go off to find shelter. All the buildings now look as if they are shapeless forms, cardboard cutouts put there by a higher form. Or maybe just a movie set, choke full of fake houses an trees. Its hard to imagine the world in pixelated form, a life like any other in high resolution.  As if we are sprites locked up in some random battles behind a computer screen, never knowing that our movements are judged by others. But that is the sort of basics of what Tom is getting at. That this is a sort of computer generated Sim. Its as if someone is rummaging around my brain systematically destroying every belief I have ever had. Maybe I am just putting to much into it, but its still hard to believe nonetheless.
    The next day comes in a flash of light, almost as if the last few hours of sleep never happened. An I don't really keep too much in the house, no coffee maker, cookware our the like. Its a way to almost force myself outside, among the people. You just never know when you might hear something in need. A certain conversation, whisper, or utterance of some kind could lead you in any unknown direction never thought of before. When your in the type of business I am in, anything should be taken into consideration. All rumors and myths have at most some basis in fact, an its my job to sift through all the crap piled up on top. Not the most glamorous job in the world, but a man does what needs to be done.  Its hard to believe, but there is a lot of money in finding out the true nature of reality. That is not what I am here for, but I can't say it doesn't help.  I find the best places in the city are the poor parts, the east end.  Because the bums can get into places, areas that are inaccessible to most. Mostly because people see 'em as insignificant. No one would believe them anyway. They are all seen as drunks, or junkies. Just because they let certain things get the better of them, doesn't make 'em bad.
   Most hang out in front of the old city hall, its all boarded up now but they found a way to get in. To get away from the cold they took out a few boards in the back window, the feds don't care too much as the place has been long empty. An as far as I know there are no plans for it in the future. 'Let the bums have their fun' they say, to get them off of the street. The lot of 'em are pretty nice, an don't mind a few questions about anything in particular. As long as your not prying into them they are pretty happy to answer whatever.  I get a cup of coffee from this place just a few blocks from the house, an sit outside the hall on the steps surrounded by others. But they don't pay no mind, as I have been here before, an I have made some friends." John! What's going my friend. Doing a little surveillance I see". He hangs over me dangling his cigarette from his mouth like he is about to topple over. But soon enough he grabs my shoulder to sit down beside me." Hey Frank, what's the news?".  Frank used to be some kind of detective in his younger days, from what he told me, which wasn't a lot.  How he eventually ended up here though, is any body's guess. He never told me exactly what happened, I don't blame him. Nobody wants to relive the past when your living the future. I offered for him to come with me, stay at home. He declined, like I figured he would. Didn't want to take hand outs I guess, I don't know. I learned not to ask to many questions." I was up on fourth the other day, with all the snooty higher ups". That is just a term that Frank uses for what he considers the useless and glossed over. The ones that don't take a second look at the ones in need in their own backyard. And yet help the ones a world away, mostly for the wrong reasons though." An I overheard some people talking about some strange anomaly happening out in the forested areas in the north end, just by that small dam. Its probably nothing though, oncoming lights and stuff as per usual. You know how the brain works, trying to make sense of the senseless. Sometimes it comes up with some truly weird results". He lights up a cigarette, offering me one as the puffs of smoke ensconce, wrapping its tentacles around me almost squeezing the air right out. I decline, as I have been off that horse for a few years now. An don't really wanna hop back on." No thanks Frank, I'm good". Silence now permeates the air, for a short time. The only noise that breaks through that bubble is the sounds of the many that surround all talking in unison. Which in turn makes a kind of white noise that is actually almost soothing in a sense. "You know John, this quest of yours. Or whatever you wanna call it. Has been going on for a long time, I know its none of my business on what you may be looking for, but.. are you so sure on what your trying to find, or find out?". I look over at 'em, smile an say." You know Frank, sometimes I wonder the same thing. Sometimes!". I pat him on the shoulder as I get up, an before I leave I tell 'em." Thanks Frank, as always your a big help". He looks up at me, with a quite somber look." Yeah John, I will be seeing you on the other side".
    Sometimes I wonder how much Frank really knows. I always get the impression that he is not always telling me the whole story. As if he can see right into me or something. Knows exactly what I want and am looking for. Either that, or its just in my head. Its about noon now, and if I am going to head down to the north end I might be needing a bite of something. I know that going down there is probably a waste of my time, but that is not how that line goes. So I end up hitting this old Chinese place just down the street. I don't know what my affinity for run down places is, but I do find myself in them quite often. Its a fairly nice place actually, a hole in the wall from the outside but once in its veritably nice. The waiters an waitresses don't really speak to much English, and I don't really speak mandarin all that well either. Which makes for a interesting little conversation at times(so lets skip that for now). So I order the usual, fried rice and beef chop suey. An sit there(which is the worst part when your out alone) with my coffee staring off into nothingness as to not stare at any one person or group. People around here have a tendency towards egotism, even if you happen to look in their direction. Its a weird trip actually, the way some people's minds work. But there is no sense in worrying to much about such asinine things. That is why I try to stay away from the privileged few, most think everything should be handed to 'em. Some are nice, don't get me wrong. But like I said, most keep their noses firmly planted in the air.  Once the plate comes the waiter sits it in front of me, slightly bows, and moves on to other awaiting customers. One of the reasons I do like it here is the fact that the plates are enormous, enough to feed about two people easily. An as I do sit, I can hear the voices of people carry through the room mingling with others and almost ending up like some Monty python skit on acid. Its hard to distinguish one conversation from the next but from what I gather the group next to me on my right are talking rumors. On how their friend, recently married, husband is already hitting the sack with another woman, boring. An nothing I have not heard before.  The table behind me on the other hand, is a lot more interesting. The man is telling his (what I could only gather is his girlfriend) on how last night when he was coming back from the bathroom, he saw a ghost. Saying he appeared by the couch on the side wall looking like a soldier or officer of some kind. He gives a quick description of what he saw, saying he had short cropped hair and a beard, and what appeared to be a black mark on his right arm. Not much to go on, but that is how it goes with these types of things.
    Frank actually has an interesting hypothesis on this. He says that ghosts are apparently the cross overs of a body from one world to the next, kind of like a shadow in a way. Beings from a parallel dimension. Only in this situation its our world and the one on the other side. He also says that it could also be a imprint of a body that was once here. Like say they send over a officer to this side per say, and when he eventually leaves back to his own "dimension" his body leaves a type of imprint of himself in this world. Kind of like tracing one image onto another piece of paper I guess. Frank probably explains it better. A pretty freaky idea if you think about it, i mean the implications alone. That in turn could mean that there might be a ghostly apparition of myself wandering around in the other place, or "dimension". I hate myself to call it the real world, because if you really think about it, who knows what is real and what isn't. For all we know we could already be in the so called real world. Like I said, freaky. You just can't think of that type of thing too much, drive a man mad.
  I somewhat listen in on some other conversations, but the rest is usual fair, normally about how the day went and all that crap, nothing of any real interest. The waiter comes over, cleans off the table and I pay at that front like normal. Outside i walk about a block over to wait for the bus, in which to the north end is about a twenty minute ride, on good traffic anyway. Its still fairly early so we will see how things go.  On the bus everyone bumps and jostles around as if we are all on the bumper cars at the pne, an the closer to the bridge we get the more backed up traffic becomes. Until eventually right after on the other side we all explode out like water from a hose, just like when you used to put your thumb over it as a kid. The crowd on board is surprisingly quiet, as if they are all trying to ignore some person or group. The monotone voice creeps over the PA every now an than like some disembodied stalker of some kind, an the driver keeps looking back with these evil judging eyes. I start to look around, nervous, paranoid, like everyone is going to come get me at once. But to no avail, as the voice once more calls out calling out my stop. So I make my way out slowly as to not raise anymore suspicion than I might have already. An so here I am, just a block or so from the dam. The walk consists of trees masquerading as forests, and rows of houses across the street staring over as if keeping them in check. Just over the trees you can hear the roar of the river in a constant repetitive scream. An you can actually walk over the dam as on the other side it turns to forest, with a few walkways for people to enjoy what little nature we might have left. Even as I walk closer an closer to my destination, I feel dumber an dumber, this whole idea just points towards pointless. But knowing how I am, I would kick myself if I didn't give it a shot. Now, as I am clearly ensconced between trees, bushes, an all the little creatures that happen to scurry from tree to tree, silence permeates the air. Walking through, in no particular order or direction, I can't help but think of that one scene from the wizard of oz as if the forest will suddenly without notice reach out for me. So as I realized beforehand, nothing is really going down here at this point. I try for a hour or so to look for any clues that might still lay beneath the thicket of grass an shrubs, But to no avail. At the end I end up sitting upon this bench facing the thick blackness of trees, with a path right in front that people more than anything else use for jogging.  I understand the concept of it, but find it weird nonetheless. For a society like we have today there is just no need for it, but no matter, everyone has their reasons.
   The sun is starting to drop down below the mountains, as it happens to do this time of year. The people now running are seen as glowing strips and brightly colored costumes, as the day gets darker. I have been here for awhile now, and still nothing, so I end up getting up to once more find the bus. I wasn't expecting to find to much, so I cannot be too disappointed, Frank can't get them all. It was a nice sorta day off though. Sitting, relaxing in the sun for part of the day. Can't say it has been too too bad. Back home, the buildings act as walls, and the shining neon lights all scream out at you at once like a class full of kindergarten students. Everything you could ever want in a four block radius, from coffee shops to porn to whatever else in between. Beautiful really, in a twisted absurd kind of way. I end up meeting with Tom ( his real name is Thompson, but I don't think he minds) not on purpose or anything, it just kind of happened. We usually do meet up a few times a week, but today wasn't supposed to be one of those days. I am at one of those food carts that litter the city now, that have almost every food you can imagine. Most with a certain twist you probably wouldn't have thought of.  The one that finds us now is called Jerry's sit 'n grill. A weird name I know, but that's not important. I order a grilled cheese sandwich with egg, feta cheese and Bacon, sloppy but delicious. Tom sits with me not ordering a thing, the whole time staring off at me with some type of contemplation in his eyes. As if he is trying to figure out what I am thinking. After about two or so minutes of this I finally put my sandwich down and spurt out." Okay Tom, either say something or stop staring, jeez!". He looks over at me, not changing his facial expression." Bad day John, did things not go as you had hoped?, tsk, tsk.".
  "No not really, I talked to Frank, he got some flimsy hit out in the north side. I didn't figure I would get anything but went anyway. I don't know if I would say bad, but definitely a waste". He keeps watching me, as if something is on his mind, an he's just trying to figure out how to spill it out." John". He says seeming a little nervous now. Quite the change from before." John, I don't know quite how to put this". He looks serious, so I put down what's left of my sandwich and listen to what he has to say." How to put what Tom?, what?". He clasps his hands together on the table." I followed Frank today, had my suspicions for quite some time. He is hiding something, something big. It seems as if he is getting you out of the way for a time with these crazy endeavours. Its good he has no idea about me I guess". At this point, I am at a loss for words. I sit back watching the look in his eyes, trying to figure out what's going on, if he's serious. Frank and I have known each other for quite some time, and he got me out of some tough situations. So when someone says there is something fishy going on with him, I tend to not take it too lightly." What are you talking about, you know how long I have known that man, there is no way Tom, no way". He leans a little closer and says." John, I know this, and I am sorry. But I watched him, and he is up to something". His eyes are fixated on mine, as his arms are still outstretched and clasped together. I don't really know what to think at this point, because Tom is not only my partner, but a friend. An a good one." Okay Tom, lets hear this than, why do you think he is up to something".


# to be continued...