Posthuman Blues

The Cosmos as pure sentience. Is matter simply a convenient metaphor provided by our senses? What do you "see" when you strip away the veil?

Anonymous smile outside the museum. The distant glow of traffic; the endless susurration of fountains; consciousness like an odorless smoke hanging in the cool evening air.

The aftertaste of strange endorphins.

There is something I wanted to tell you
It's so funny you'll kill yourself laughing
But then I look around
And I remember that I am alone.

--Morrissey, "Come Back to Camden"