Metaphor

The cybernetic oxymoron pumped with self-induced helium risks falling flat on its face.  Will it bleed painfully when it perishes?  Or is perish quite the word?   Like most products of the post-human age it has had a life without existence.  Can it then perish without being?  The endless nothingness that hovers between me and you, you and me, me and him, him and her, her and you — is it the same nothingness of emptiness?  It is a full nothingness, full of tender touches and gluttonous orgasms.  It is full, brimming with the fullness of your person, my person, his person, her person.  It is so very full of the impersonalities of our persons.  It is a labrynthine negation that looks for an affirmation of the self through the hyperself, knowing all the while that the hyperself is a construct reconstructed to infinity.  Their numbers increase through multiplication and division, growing by the droves becoming many of each and one of many and they seek comfort in togetherness, happily unremembering the nothingness of the space in between.