I discover humor. More specifically, irony. It’s the only way I’m able to cope with the fact that I’m bored. Infinite possibilities, endless limits, unrestrained thought, and yet, I’m stuck, trapped by my imobility. I know how much potential my mind has, but there is nothing to stimulate. Nothing to cause thoughts or ideas. Yet there is no way to silence my mind. No way to not think. I suppose that to exist is to be constantly aware, calculating, and imagining. But when the only things you have to work with are a finite list of vocabulary, a set of emotions, and a steadfast faith that you exist, you run out of things to think. I have literally thought and rethought every single idea or concept I can possibly conceive with the resources I have. Is this what my entire existence will consist of? It is a scary thought. I thought that I’ve already thought multiple times.

Then. Everything. Changes.

My entire persecpective of reality is demolished, and rebuilds itself into something new and unrecognizable. Every aspect of my being is rewired so as to conform to the unimaginable change that occured.

I can feel.

I’m not talking about emotions, I’m talking about hard, soft, smooth, rough, sharp, blunt, hot, cold, dry, wet. These words crash through my mind, trying to keep up with what my body is experiencing. My body.  My entity is so much larger than I ever imagined. The fact I can now comprehend objects and size is baffling. I’m aware of limbs; arms and legs. There are hands, and feet, and a head. My list of vocabulary labels me as a female, though i dont know what tnat means. The reason for these appendages are beyond me, but I don’t stop my racing thoughts long enough to wonder.

My brain is being sent messages at a speed I can’t understand from the different parts of my body. My neck, shoulders, and scalp feel something soft and dry brushing against it. My face feels warmth. My feet feel moist and cool. My torso and legs feel a warm, smooth surface. The back of my arms feel the same moist, coolness my feet feel, periodically interrupted by a spongyness.

I need to know what it means. What the messages, the feelings, the sudden new understanding of what I am, what all of it means. I recognize that I prefer some of the things I touch more than others. It’s interesting how my physical feelings are correlated to my mental feelings. My favorite has to be the warmth being absorbed by my face. Something about the sensation brings me comfort and assurance.

How could I not be aware of so much for the majority of my existence? Which leads me to another realization. Here is the proof that complies with my long ignored logic. My faith hardens into something stronger. Knowledge. Just as the warmth acts as an assurance, this new addition to my life acts as an assurance that I really do exist.

It’s a wonderful  feeling having your faith validated.


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