Alternating Theories of Ghost Riding
I was a naked electrical signal.
I got dressed up in a robot body.
I pulled it on slow, feeling the metal bits cloaking my haze of angry electrons. I filled it up like lightning filling a bottle. I made it want to burst. I brought it to life, like a kiss from God.
Billions of lines of ongoing code, representing my every thought and emotion. Flashing little lights communicating bravely, incessantly. A tickling sensation where my mind should be.
It’s like brain-death, feeling these thoughts slip away, slipping into something else, taking on another form. Reborn again in metal. Reborn as an angry glowing god, with hands made from rock and eyes casting a deadly red glow.
I feel like a demon, cast out of hell. An angel with wings on fire.
I feel like I’m on drugs, or like my body’s plugged into the wall, feeing off the household frequency. Like a vampire, getting fat off the power company.
I flex my robot body, and I move out into the world.
We take it all by force.
Rip and Run
Volume set to max, flow against the tide. Yeah, a tide of oncoming vehicles flashing colours of metal, reflective light glaring into your eyes for milliseconds at a time, the sound of air whipping across quick-moving monsters of steel and chrome, little rubber legs spinning against broken miles of cracked asphalt.
Louder. Faster. Meaner.
The sound goes up, and we go down. She’s wrapping lips around me as I hammer down on the accelerator. I’m going down with her ship, the little man in her boat, as we spin up to the edge of the road, and past it. Over it. Yeah, we’re steering off the road and into the sky, now.
We kiss a cloud as it explodes like bursting glass.