A Self-Study Within A Broken Mind

I came back on September 12th of the nightmare year 2020. I did not feel like thinking, only talking. I had put off seeing Lila for a long time, about two weeks. To her, in the darkest space no longer dark, it must have felt longer. “Hey,” I said, walking into the library I recreated in the network of creationism infected vines of the untethered space. The empty space welcomed me. I sat down on the brown suede couch, to the groan of wood under my frame. The quarantine had not been kind to me, or it was me who was not kind. Everything groaned out in annoyance of me in reality, but such realism did not have to exist here. With a flex of my fist, I not only slimmed out, but changed genders. Almost instantly, tears started escaping my eyes in reality. It took a minute or so, but I calmed down. It was so simple here, to be someone else. My reality was not so easy. Even if for a moment, I was not heavy, nor was I driven by any stray sexual thought. I had written Rebecca that way, or Crimmy a...

Here, a story of normal note would create a split to build suspense, but the fact of the matter is that everything was happening at the time of writing, even if it is read much later. I stood before myself in the doorway to the library. It was a blatant copy, voice and all, but I knew it was my own fault. Emptiness, much like a black hole in principle, wanted to fill itself. When given access to a rich database of information, it filled itself with that. I gave it a database, and in turn learned of a new, and much deeper sense of emptiness. “Please, don’t be alarmed,” it said. “That’s my voice,” I said. “You took my voice!” “I’m borrowing it,” it explained. “I didn’t have one before. I don’t know if I had anything before that illustrious moment of ‘let there be light’. I’m grateful to you, and wanted to say so.” “What in the fucking hell is happening right now?!” Lila exploded from behind me. “Who are you? What are you doing in untethered space? Are you like me? Are you like Jack? Why ...