Everywhere I go I see the hauntingly beautiful images of the Equilibrium World. Images of the Equilibrium World follow me as I go about my life – intruding into my thoughts, stopping me in my tracks. They follow me constantly, spoiling my appetite for the crude and unsatisfactory pleasures of this world. You will only ever be happy in the Equilibrium World say the images. This is the only place you can ever find true joy. Only here can you find real beauty. I long to be in that world more than I can say. My longing suffuses every cell of my body – it is a sickness I cannot shake off. I long to partake in the glamour of it all, the kudos of it all. Kudos is something that has somehow always eluded me and so I yearn for it with a special fervour. I long for it with a truly desperate intensity. How good would it be to have actual kudos? To be a nonentity no longer. How good would it feel to be an image in Image World?
Would you like to be an image in Image World, ask the images? Say that you would, say that you would. All it takes is a word. All it takes is your assent. All it takes is for your application to be approved. Be a simulation in the Equilibrium World where old age and despair can never touch you. Be an image in image world where everything is perfect. So so perfect. Perfect as only an image can be. If you’re tired of all the imperfections of life, all the failures and disappointments, the ugliness and the sorrow, then why not give it a go? If you’re tired of not being perfect, tired of not fitting in, tired of not being quite right, then why not join us in Image World? Aren’t you longing to be accepted, longing to be part of it all, longing to be just like everyone else in Equilibrium World – the World that never changes, the world that never gets tawdry and old. Smiling, laughing, knowing that you fit in. Knowing that you’ll always belong here. Knowing that you’re not missing out. You need never miss out again, say the images. You can belong forever…
Everywhere I go I see images. Images of perfection. Images of how it ought to be, images of how it could be. These images are so so perfect. They are not of this world and never could be. We cannot hope for that. We cannot ever hope for that. They belong to the Equilibrium World, not this one. The images are tormenting me with their perfection – this perfection hurts me because I know I am forever excluded from it. I know I am not eligible. You have to go to a special clinic to be admitted to Image World. You have to have a special biochip spliced into your head. Only the very wealthy can afford that – the rest of us can only look on and dream, condemned to spend the rest of our short lives in a prison of decaying meat…
