They Shuffle,

down the street.

 

Lost,

In a trance.

 

Consumed by video

Apps or

Games of chance

 

Vacant are their bloodshot eyes and

behind them you will find

A mind slaved to the rhythm of the

Solid

State

Drive.

 

On the train

On the bus

Plod along

Create no fuss

While the soundtrack to their lives nulls the pain.

 

For the hustle and bustle

and commuters in a tussle

Are drowned out by the

sound of a Squirtle in the rain.

 

They can’t see what’s straight ahead,

Can’t blink away the tears from

A consciousness that’s LOL’d, controlled

By the white leads from their ears.

 

They think of Playlists/Updates/Purchases

Not about the world at large.

The only time they weaken

Is when they must recharge.

 

Mankind’s future is on the rocks,

Its outlook is quite glum,

For now you can control the whole damned world

with a movement of your thumb.

 

They chill us to the core my friend,

An image of what might be.

They’re slowly coming for us

You and I

They’re name –

iZombie

Sans-sation, or sansation, is the state of being without sensation, to be totally devoid of stimulus.

With the glut of technology interface, information digestion and data processing that us mere human beings have to handle getting to the point of overload is all too common. But what of the future? How will we cope when we’re cyborgs with augmentations up to (and perhaps instead of) our eyeballs?

Sight, sound, touch, smell – all of these and more are gone when you’re in a sansation tank.

“Sansation tank, what’s that?” you say.

Think of tanning salons with those little coffins of light. Now take away the light. Next, combine it with a flotation tank and ensure there’s no way of drowning. Now lock the door. Add a bit of chemical magic to dull the nerves a little (mind the dosage now) before switching off your scribe (more on them later) and the rest of your wares and you’re in sansation. But be careful, you don’t want to hang around in your mind for too long. Who knows what is lurking in there…