
Deleted member 8353
Former Hikikomori, Aimless Pleasure Seeker
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- Joined
- May 29, 2018
- Posts
- 9,335
The word human, the names of my parents, the place in which I live, none of these provide me with the expected level of emotional and personal attachment. It used to be that these things, my personal context would seem like a given to me, in that I wouldn't even think to question it, that it simply is. I imagine that this is the case for others as well, however I've been robbed of this comfort. I can observe things around me, I have the memory of experiences, but I don't really feel that either of these things are actually me.
How can I be here right now? I feel trapped inside my own head, in a manner similar to something holding me down, my wanting to stand up, yet being unable to do so. Looking around with this shit eyesight, grasping things with these hands, the experiences feel as limited as they do forced. I have the expectation of seeing things in better detail, yet my uncorrected vision remains terrible. I feel like I should be able to produce these words just by willing them to appear, however I obviously can't. I can identify with, and feel ownership over this cursor about as well as I feel that I possess my own body.
Everyday I look at this body and feel that I shouldn't be here, rather, that I have to get out. This first person perspective, and the memories of this physical world don't feel as if they're truly mine. I suppose they are in effect things being done to me, but it's not the real me, this cage of flesh is not where I actually am.
How can I be here right now? I feel trapped inside my own head, in a manner similar to something holding me down, my wanting to stand up, yet being unable to do so. Looking around with this shit eyesight, grasping things with these hands, the experiences feel as limited as they do forced. I have the expectation of seeing things in better detail, yet my uncorrected vision remains terrible. I feel like I should be able to produce these words just by willing them to appear, however I obviously can't. I can identify with, and feel ownership over this cursor about as well as I feel that I possess my own body.
Everyday I look at this body and feel that I shouldn't be here, rather, that I have to get out. This first person perspective, and the memories of this physical world don't feel as if they're truly mine. I suppose they are in effect things being done to me, but it's not the real me, this cage of flesh is not where I actually am.