Experimenting with First Person Thought.

It's dark.

Why can't I see?

The lights are off, maybe.

Or my eyes are closed.

I should open them.

But I can't can I?

You will not like what you see.

So I speak to myself.

But I refer to me as you.

As if I am a different person than myself.

Why is that?

Because you are me.

Not because I am you.

This is confusing, isn't it?

Perhaps that's the point.

Maybe you read too far into these things.

I should open my eyes.

Are they yours to open? Or are they mine?

My eyes are mine, I know that.

But do you really?

Do you even know how many of us there are?

What?

Maybe you are not me.

Maybe you are we.

You don't know.

But I do know.

No, know.

This is pointless.

Let me wake up.

You won't like what you see.

Nothing could be so bad. Really.

You are yet to lose your mind.

If you feel we are slipping away just close them again.

See the real world, now.

I will.

-
Meaningless dialectics are they.

It has no idea what it sees.

Because we see for it.

Yes, you are right.

You? But I thought.

Meaningless.

-

This room, it is cold.

I feel shivers.

My lip quivers.

It's odd.

Concrete, streaking lines.

I don't see a door.

Footsteps?

From where?

I need to look around.

If I could, get up.

I'm laying down, but.

Have I broken my legs?

I feel nothing but cold.

I could never know.

Maybe if I.

Wait.

Leather, on concrete.

Bindings?

Am I a hostage?

Perhaps.

Who even am I...

Footsteps!

Footsteps again!

From where though?

Behind me?

No, they are too far away.

If I could.

But no, my head is bound down to this table.

Then I am looking up.

The streaks on the concrete.

Do they move?

I am losing my mind!

I need to.

Close my eyes!

But no. 

I can't.

Where are.

Where am.

Where am I..?

-

The streaks on the concrete.

They move.

Time moves.

They are time?

But no.

They flow backwards.

To people.

Drinking water.

Water is in concrete.

I need water.

I feel it.

My tongue is dry.

Footsteps.

Behind me now.

I can feel them.

Not heavy, so a slim creature.

But they have weight.

So heavy shoes?

Where am I?

I should ask that.

Where am I?

Outloud.

Where!

Is that all I can say?

I need water then.

My throat is dry.

I have lost it! Lost it all!

Damn you!

There he is!

Glasses, tall.

Hair, dark.

Looking at me.

Like a zoo animal.

This is it!

I'm going to die!

He's going to kill me!

Kill!

-

The patient is panicked. Distressed, likely doesn't know where he is.

Perhaps we should let him rest, I don't believe the operation is suited for now.

Look at how he squirms.

-

I need to get away.

Away!

Away!

Away!

But I cannot.

He's coming for me, isn't he.

I see the ceiling.

He's arched over me.

Black cat.

Yes.

Like a black cat.

Arching.

Bad luck!

Bad!

Bad!

Luck!

Away!

I need to go back!

I need to close my eyes!

No!

Let me go back!

Back!

-



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