I had never found this chair occupied before. There was a slight feeling of hesitation when I glanced around the corner. But there it was, just as I expected, empty. I walked toward, collapsing into the chair. Nothing could take this chair away from me. Certainly not the people below whom I was looking at from the unusually skinny window nearby! I was on the second floor. And then I felt. It was obvious to me, unlike most of my other feelings. It wasn't just a banal surrounding, but it was pungent in terms of being. It started at the head and found its way to my legs.
These formerly dense bones have turned into withered feathers. The birds have forgotten how to fly. The sky holds me up, even though I have no understanding of its hands. I knew this could take me under no matter what I willed. The will did not matter, but how was that so? The words on the page had lost all readability. I no longer wanted to think about what I normally liked to think about. This spirit was taking over!
There's a loss of significance when I think about these chromosomes hiding in their cells, hiding even deeper in my body. They're these little arachnids blanketed by carapaces. And then I find myself practicing metacognition, where my fears wage war against authenticity. I have no thoughts, just neurons firing inside of my brain. I have no mind, I only have a brain. I have no spirit, I am just a sum of material parts - a collection of spinning cogs! This is a practice of horror, this reevaluation of things that I don't even believe in.