Being Human by BloodySpaghettiHere’s to being human, I’ve taken it for granted. Being human is probably the most amazing thing I could’ve been, we could’ve been. Usually humans don’t even appreciate their own humanity as much as they should; for the most part we focus on our struggles and misfortunes, even though those who do appreciate their humanity do so after going through a life changing event or just in a display of their perceived superiority over other living beings. Sadly, everyone is like that, me included; well I used to be like that. Now things have changed, in fact they have changed so long ago. I have no idea how many decades have passed since I have been inserted into this tin can.
There’s a certain beauty in the bleeding, I did not appreciate it, now I do. I was forced to become appreciative of my humanity by the madness that befell me so long ago. Long ago, I ended up in a terrible car accident, I couldn’t be saved in any conventional way, fortunately for me, or not, by the time my accident had transpired, science was ready to start producing cyborgs. By cyborgs I mean a human brain (and other organs) inside a fully functional mechanic body fueled by some sort of nuclear engine. I was in fact the first fully functional cyborg in the world. It felt amazing… for the people who gave me my new body.
I didn’t feel so great about it.
At least, all of them felt something; I do have different sensors in various places of the humanoid mech-cage that imprisons me, but I do not feel anything – every touch feels like a numb contact devoid of any actual physical sense. Sounds and images come directly to me so I do not experience them the same way I used to when I had my original body, instead I process them like a computer and I can’t even hear my voice. All I can do is imagine, and I imagine myself sounding like the sound of a rusted door creaking on its hinges combined with the voice of a man with advanced tuberculosis. Being unable to feel anything or experience anything takes a great toll on the human brain, humans in my condition would usually hallucinate, I cannot even do that – I am just being constantly bombarded by my own thoughts. It hurts mostly metaphorically, giving birth to yet more torment and thus creating more thoughts, which leads me to this endless cycle of muffled mental pain I’ve been experiencing for so long now.
I don’t like what I’ve become, I tried telling them that my life is as good as a dead man’s but they did not listen, I even forced them through the hell of listening to my desperate rumbling for hours on end. They did not listen, they said they will improve my experiences with newer technology but no matter how many times I’ve been upgraded I still can’t feel. Sometime after me, they began an act to transition the whole of humanity into mechanical bodies as a way to achieve immortality and end human troubles. I tried stopping them from doing so, but they did not listen. I had gotten violent eventually, tossing a few humans around and they still did not listen. I ended up being locked up and forgotten, that was decades ago, I lost count after around 60 years back in 2194… Who knows how much time has passed ever since then. I am recording this in case some other species similar to humans find the remains of my humanoid mech cage some day and does learn from our mistake.
I hope that whoever finds this won’t end up in hell like us.
Now you must be wondering, how the hell I am talking about such distant times of future if today it’s still 2016, well, It’s all a lie… This is simply a work of fiction indeed, like it or not it is what is and your thoughts don't bother me not. However, what is true is the fact that my hand had been forced to write this by my own condition, if you are wondering what kind of condition could drive a person to write such a grim, almost apocalyptic, self-centered science fiction piece?
Well what is true is that I’ve been diagnosed with Borderline, Histrionic and Narcissistic personality disorders along with a clinic depression.