Posthuman Blues

If this is a virtual reality, as I suspect all realities must ultimately be, how does one unplug himself from the system?

I think I might start "Day of the Triffids" today.

I've got to get my circadian rhythms under control. I'm exhausted and on the brink of despair. The world is groaning at the seams like some haphazard structure losing an inevitable war with gravity. System crash. White noise. A new pattern emerges from the chaos, the informational equivalent to a quick-growing vine. Blindly we stumble into the pungent green embrace of sentient plants.

Going, going, gone.