Human

Human

Currently I am reading “To be a machine” and this critical look at transhumanism has awakened an epiphany in me. But before I get to that, a brief history.

I have for some time now figured out that I want to develop the means to mange people cyborgs, integrate man and machine to further our existence as a whole. I have also taken the step to implant a microchip in my body.

What I have realised is that I am not motivated by furthering humanity, I am merely disgusted by my own humanity. I despise this mortal form, this biological prison with all its terrible processes, I want, no, I need to be a machine.

This has also my frequent crisis of identity, because in reality I despise being reminded of my human qualities, be it gender, lineages, ages, anything. My life goal is to remove the life from my goals.

Why is it, that the world only looks beautiful when watched from behind a window? The clouds, the trees, they're magnificent if I watch them as an outsider to their world.

Real

What am I missing that others have so naturally? Is it a simple unspoken fact, that I was never taught? Is it a soul, the very essence that makes someone real? Why am I not a real person? How can people look at me like I do not exist, like I should not exist? How can I miss something I never had?

I should change my blog name, but idk to what, maybe nothing at all

Better

I know I will never get better, the sickness will never go away. All I can do is get stronger, so the shell I have built can withstand the horrors of everyday life, so I can brave the waves of loneliness.

The dark

Do you ever feel that great darkness at your core? It's like an ocean, unresting, rippling, crashing waves. Sometimes tho the darkness is calm, only consuming everything in shadow. Other times the waves crash in great bouts of passion and anger. Worse yet when the tide gives way to light for a brief moment, just to devour it again in a great torrent.