A Letter from Beta Colony

Dear Mo0ncor3,

I hope you receive this well,
quantum-crypto channel has been
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[LOADING]
quite unstable, sometimes I imagine this is
what our mind looks like, when believes -
original, implanted - foaming in hexadecimals,
that can only be compiled in our secret
human processors. Your mother must
have mentioned, how these old-day intellectuals
predicted our failure. We are young kids
lost among stars, dancing naked on galaxy’s stage
barely dressed in nebulae. A million bubbles,
in our souls too spoiled, encapsulate ancient DNAS
of duties and virtues that can make us explode
like a progenitor of blood and passion. Supernova.
Shocking waves of old-day wisdoms, long missed
by all. [WARNING] [……]
[413 PAYLOAD TOO LARGE]
Okay. Just a simple wish
for the past eras to fall upon again
our machine-powered immortality, the dead heroes
resurrected in their original forms of flesh,
fresh of emotion, rationality, warm and vivid,
not some cryogenic nitrogen in life-sustaining veins,
neither the clumsy hormone-based love-sim
nor the monotony of sanity_procedure.exe .
[451 UNAVAILABLE FOR LEGAL REASONS]
“Montag? Where do they keep these old books?”
We are the wasted teens,
passing out over drugs, during the striptease of a lizardman
in holographic latex. We are the hanging bar bulbs
trying to kill the cables by falling; we are the angry units
on the motherboard, overrun and burnt in our own heat.
We are the lingering codes in front of a logic gate.
We are the blocked currents by transistors of civilization.
We are wet dreams. We are a forgotten class in between
those who work to thrive and those who fight to survive.
And my friend, we resonate in despair.
We ask for a violent death,
for so we could return to old days
and live as real for once; for so we could once again stare
at the thundering galactic cores, our eyes almost blind,
our hearts almost innocent, like an old-day child,
secretly portraying the face of a friendly alien.
 
(Below is Chinese translation)

《β殖民地通信》

亲爱的核月Mo0ncor3:

但愿你已收到这封来信，
量子加密信道最近
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[加载中]
不太稳定，有的时候我觉得，
我们的信念，不论是原发还是植入，
只能被人类处理器秘密地编译。当他们
像十六进制码一样不断起泡时，
我们的思想看起来也这样摇摇欲坠。
你的母亲一定向你提起过，那些古老的智者
如何预言了我们的堕落。我们是
迷失在群星间的小孩，浑身赤裸，半裹星云
在银河系的戏台上跳舞。娇纵溺爱的灵魂里
千万只气泡包裹着古老的基因——责任和美德
能让我们像前身星一样引爆血液和热忱。超新星。
古老智慧的激波，为人长久地思念 [警告] [……]
[错误413：请求实体过大]
好吧。只是一个简单的愿望
希望过去能再一次降临在
我们永恒的机械生命。希望那些死去的英雄
能再次以血肉原身复活，有鲜活的情绪，
理智，温暖而生动，不像我们维生系统的管道里
跑动的低温液氮，不是基于荷尔蒙的爱情模拟器，
也不是终端单调运行的 理性决策.exe 。
[错误451：因法务原因不可用]
“蒙泰戈？他们把那些旧书放哪了？”
我们是不省人事的少年，
在穿镭射皮衣的蜥蜴人跳脱衣舞时，因药物神魂颠倒；
我们是企图通过落地来杀死电缆的酒吧灯泡。
我们是母板上愤怒的单元，死在自己超载的热量中。
我们是逻辑门前徘徊的代码。我们是被文明的晶体管
阻挡的电流。我们是潮湿的梦。我们是夹在那些
为繁荣拼搏的人和那些为繁殖挣扎的人中间 被遗忘的阶层。
朋友啊，我们绝望地共振，
我们寻求一种暴力的死亡，
这样就能回到过去，
真正地活上一次。这样我们就能再一次凝望
那些电闪雷鸣的星系核，我们的双目几乎失明，
我们的心灵几乎天真，像一个旧时的孩童，
悄悄幻想着，一个友善的外星人该长什么样子。