Counter-Reality Machine

This weird fog; a need to be focused. Walking through it is like walking randomly through time. To walk through it is to walk (through?) random time. Shadows of people, only outlines or silhouettes, never more visceral than a light fog or mist. I have a counter-reality machine. When I turn it on everything reverses. Dead becomes alive, warm becomes cold, wet becomes dry, dry becomes gaseous, gaseous becomes liquid. Make it clear, though. This is no bizarro world. Nice does not become mean, hello does not become goodbye. No, only something with physicality can be altered. Exist becomes not exist. This fact becomes something of a problem, then. Everything exists. What doesn’t exist? Would some extinct planet be the home for bigfoot and the loch ness monster? Only things that don’t exist? Then how do we decide what doesn’t exist? This conversation is getting out of hand.


Sometimes I write with no goal in mind, in the hopes that some amazing idea will work it's way into my mind. I really liked the sound of 'counter-realty machine,' but the more I wrote about it the less sense it made. Ideas are easy, logistics are not.