Elsewhere, the flight of the seasons has long overtaken.
Her return has been long overdue.
Yet strangely, all she could ever remember was the sensation of her weighted eyelids that has closed up on her following her deep slumber. Squinting her eyes as she struggled to fight through the heaviness of her eyelids. She awoke to find herself in a room of her own.
"chk…chk! Chk!"
Startled by the rasp of a lighter, she looked about anxiously only to find that there was no one else in the room. Where could the sound had possibly come from? The ceiling? Or could it had been from the outside of the room? Her heart was beating fervently against her tiny body frame that she felt as if her heart would leap out of her body if she continued to let her mind roam freely. The foreign sensation that was making its course through her body was needless to say, an alien sensation for someone who has been caught in a slumber as deep as hers and she struggled to recover her composure. After all, it had never occurred to her that she would be enjoying any form of company in the facility.
Scrutinising the room that she was in as she perched herself up from the bed frame, she was surprised that her motion was strangely effortless for a man who had been held in a slumber as deep as hers. They had warned her of muscle deterioration and possible memory losses before she fell into her deep slumber, yet she found herself at complete ease with her movements. The time in which has awakened to must have been far further into the future than she had imagined–she decided that she would better take a mental note about it.
Glass: she observed enveloped the room to a state of clinical whiteness putting her in a state of general unease, no vestiges of human life; at least that which she once knew of remained.
Except for the lighter.
Wherever the sound of the lighter came from, that would be her first lead. Lifting herself off the bed, she struggled to regain the bearings on her feet. She would better take some time getting used to it, but for the time being–that was of no concern to her. To get out of this place would be on the first of the many tasks that she will have to accomplish. Stumbling along the way, she dragged her feet across the room in her search of her first clue.
Outside the room, a young man could be seen blowing out billowy puffs of air from the corner of the hallway where he stood. He nodded towards her as he extinguished his cigarette and gestured for her to follow after him.
His job was to bring her to the destination.
“Where are we…"
The man cut her off abruptly.
“You will be on your way where you will learn more in the rehabilitation facilities there…”
Sensing that there was a gap in their distance. The man took a pause in his step as he waited for her to catch up with his footsteps.
The cold bare earth was unfriendly, and she could feel beads of cold sweat trickling down her back. She was awash with fears, and her feet felt as if it was getting heavier and heavier by the moment. Dragging her feet on the way out from the facility, she was in a state of paranoia and confusion and she wondered to herself if this was all merely just a dream. Yet, she was aware that if anyone was to have been gone from this world for as far as she had done so, it wouldn’t had been exactly wrong for her to consider if these were all simply just a dream as well, and she reassured herself with that thought as she made her way out from the facility.
Her exit from the facility was greeted by a ray of light that shone through the overcast clouds that hung right above her–as if it had known of her arrival and had meant to welcome her into this time space. She, however, could not help but to flinch from the blazing ray of light. Despite the fact that there was no memory nor physical regression, her eyes had yet to get used to the sun. The penetrative glare of the sun thrown in with the mixture of fear and mental exhaustion was pounding itself into her head and she could feel the onset of a tension headache.
The deep slumber had exhausted every ounce of spirit and energy that her weary soul could undertake and with each successive claps of the thunder she could feel as though she is thrown further backwards into this unknown state of darkness.
But she knew that she had to keep herself in check.
She knew that she had to get here–to this place.
She chose it anyway.
#
Paradise Inn.
An architecture marvel far beyond my time. Paradise inn was every bit true to its name and its rehabilitation facility was fully integrated with every single form of entertainment from theatres to amusement parks. The rehabilitation facility also came fully equipped with its own self-sustaining agricultural capability with its source of electricity, powered by its own solar panel fixtures. It was a complete harmony of both form and functionality, and I was completely mesmerised by the leap of technological advancement that this generation had come to be capable of. Take the pneumatic tube system for example, an invention that my generation had abandoned at the turn of the 20th century. This generation however, had surmounted the apex of technology and further enhanced it and It was now being utilised in place of human labour to deliver meals and necessities to my room. However, my fascination soon died off and in spite of the entertainment offerings that was available here. I simply had no desire to accommodate myself to join in with the merrymaking. Aside from the time that I’ve spent in the rehabilitation centre. I spent almost all of my time locked up in my own room sleeping and waking.
The days were getting shorter and shorter, and the nights longer than it ever did. I would often awake to the idea that everything I’ve been in is merely just a dream. Simply put, it feels as though I have had this dream countless times before and I could no longer be sure of whether or not this memory actually belongs to me anymore.
Yet it's one of those dreams that I treasure anyway.
On the first night that I’ve left the room, I ended up in an arcade and for unbeknownst reason to me ever since.
I would always visit the arcade in the wee of the night.
For the price of a dollar a play, the arcade lane was once the commandeer of dreams. A place that provided respite for us from our very existence; it offered mankind the chance to gain control over their life and experiences. A virtual world of promises that has now been deserted. In an all-encompassing world of infinite possibilities, it is clearly understandable to all as to why the arcade had been left to such desolation.
Yet I could not help but to be drawn towards the dazzling array of light and sound that was being reflected off the arcade cabinet consoles. The quiet lanes on the street in contrast were akin to that of the vicissitudes of the seasons and I felt myself draw to it for reasons, unknown to me.
On my fifth night there however, I ran into a man at the Tetris machine who arrived subsequently from there onwards, no earlier or later, right on the dot at 4am. The arrival of a kindred soul comforted and soothed my soul immensely in this space where I’ve grown to be all alone.
After all the time that has passed, my memory has gotten all jumbled up now and I could no longer remember why I chose this. However, my generation has always thought of this world that lies before me as one that mankind has dreamt of since its conception.
A land of infinite opportunities.
The line certainly rings a bell doesn’t it?
I decided to strike up a conversation with the man after observing him for a couple of days just to break the ice.
"Not much of a fan of the other game consoles over here, are you mister?"
"I guess so...”
“…the Tetris was invented in 1984 where one would have least suspected it…”
“…the magic that you see happening here begun all within the interior of a Soviet computer lab in the midst of the Cold War by Alexey Pajitnov…”
He replied as a matter-of-factly as he sent the tetromino blocks into their descend and cleared the rows in quick succession.
I nodded.
“There is no villain in the gameplay unlike Mario or Donkey Kong but these unforgivable rain of blocks…”
“…a reductionistic metaphor if you will…”
“…one can only defend, organise, build, or to fit them altogether and we are only rewarded by the numbers on the score chart and the time that we have allowed it to eat away at…”
“…the virtual world in my days was once a place where people built upon ... It was not simply just an imitation of reality…nor any lesser of what that was happening in the real world...”
“…it was the real world for us.”
“The Tetris here, is a puzzle that is meant to be completed in time, and yet it never is…
“…it creeps up to us with its eventuality…and goes on and on until we pack to empty again,”
“…and yet the end… is also the start of a new beginning.” —He proceeded to move his fingers away from the buttons to the edge of the console putting an end to the gameplay abruptly.
–GAME OVER–
The game was brought to an abrupt end.
“Tell me little miss…have you found what you were after?”
A pitch-black darkness fell upon me in that moment.
I stood there, incredibly silent and still.
In a space where mankind no longer has to hurry as they go about their daily life.
There we were.
Two oddities that were still attempting to build upon a virtual world.
Two oddballs roaming about in this world of structured order.
The theme song to ‘Galaga’ played in the background as he walked off and I watched on as the solitary figure disappeared into the dimly lit lane.
Not once did he turn around.
Time beyond measure may have passed, items that were once indispensable may have long come to be thrown out with new iterations. Yet, the unending sequence of events labelled in time could not quell the attachments that still resides in our heart.
Perhaps, he had already known.
Back then, I have often wondered about the songs I’d like to have as the accompaniment to my funeral but not once had I ever thought of my dying wish.
Yet, I had always harboured a secret desire that I was too ashamed to let on to anyone. I have always wanted Haruomi Hosono’s video game soundtrack to be the accompaniment to my funeral. It is anything but the norm for such an upbeat tune to be played at anyone’s funeral. But the reason I was ashamed of this desire was simply because of my own shallowness, I wanted the boppy 8-bit tune and it’s thrilling upbeat tune to be likened to the life that I lived; Not necessarily, the life that I had truly led and for that I felt immensely ashamed about it.
Right now, however, the life that I’ve led could probably only be likened to the white noise around me.
The ceaseless white noise that has been static, and relentless throughout time.
I stood there, and for the first time since I’ve stepped into this time space cried my own grief.
Life, they have cheated you.
There was beauty to Tetris in its unpredictability, in its ability to provide respite to our life and in its precise end much like life in itself.