Cities

The city of the past lies in a bed of clouds. Thick clouds, heavy clouds, clouds weighted down with
water, heavy with rain. A permanent fog rolls down the streets, obscuring the vision of each of its inhabitants, as the city perches on top of the Mesa. Only dwellings exist in the city. Towering skyscrapers house every citizen in a one room apartment. In each room there is only a bed. There are no shops, no restaurants, food is not needed, the thick fog enveloping the city provides basic nourishment, there is no government of any kind. No entertainment. No diversions. No parks. Just concrete, sidewalks, endless skyscrapers. There is a populous continuely living in the hapiness of nostalgia, of the past, of things been and gone. No uncertainty. Each inhabitant lives in a one room apartment furnished only with a bed. The paralyzing fog is piped into each room endlessly through a sophisticated filtration system. There are no days as such for each citizen. There is a never ending bombardment of the senses. The fog kills the parts of the brain responsible for forming new memories and overstiumlates the sections responsible for storing memories. The fog is euphoric. Visions of birthdays, parties, time with loved ones, conversations with praise, never ending repetition of love, love, love. The citizen is encased only in positive remembrances. All incidents of pain, rejection, depression, unhapiness are filtered and belched out into the air surrounding the City. They roll down the Mesa leaving a chemtrail of noxious gas.
No one ages in the city. The fog prolongs life indefinetely. Sickening stasis in the comforting fog. No one can observe the city, no one can enter. The citizens living here were chosen from a lottery which was overflowing with humans eager to live forever in happiness. The population is fixed. No sun rises here. No pain exists. Pain is related to uncertainty with is related to tomorrow and there is no tomorrow.

The city of the future is located on a barren ice field surrounded in a controled bubble. There is no warmth here. There are no homes. There is only one endless office where the citizens toil 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Clocks are everywhere. The lightning is provided by a blinding clincal glow of lightbulbs. The citizens are injected once a day, the only downtime. This injection contains the chemicals necessary to maintain their advanced human form for another 24 hours. It is a combination of extreme amphetamine, essential vitamins, and a blocking agent regulating basic human emotions. The citizens here have no genitals, there is no need for pro-creation. Their is no empathy for their fellow citizens, no love, no family, only a compulsive need for more. The eyes in this city are dolls eyes, empty. Citizens work in a blind feverish frenzy for tomorrow. For more. Checks are sent constantly, and each citizen continuely checks their bank accounts. Everything is put away, nothing is spent. The citizens are seized by a compulsive need to accumulate. There is never enough. But tomorrow there will be, and then the next day and the next on into infinity. The only emotion here is greed and lust for more. The work is neverending, nothing is ever finished and plans and projects are continuely updated and revisied. Nothing here can ever be completed. Everything is for the future, which is bridge stretching on into infinity. The city of the future is an empty clinical hive.