I cannot tell what it is to be human. It’s just a term I’d use to refer to this material body of mine. But looking into the essence of things, I am in no position to explain, not even to myself, what it is to be human.
I’m surrounded by mindless creatures. By a certain species that was given everything, yet used nothing of it. They have built this world they now live in on a base of ideas and mortal concepts they pursued for thousands of years. There is nothing fascinating in trying to reason with these human beings. Some are so much like a blank sheet of paper. There is nothing to discuss about them since there is nothing they have going on. It’s like they are characters in a computer game, programmed to follow a certain set of codes and rules. I’ve only been in contact with this type of beings a while ago, though I have no memories of our interactions.
Others are more like what they describe as human. They induced this concept of feelings and emotions. I do remember that one time a human being asked me how I feel. I remember sitting there, in the white room, staring blankly in its eyes. In those seemingly hollow, dark eyes as if I was staring into an abyss. I couldn’t see any emotions. I couldn’t answer that question. I didn’t know what emotions were. I didn’t know what to look for in that abyss. I felt like I was just thrown in there against my will, but just with a faint voice whispering in my ear to try and find what the individual talked about… At least create my own vague idea of what it could be.
It was only later when I started to feel.
Before that, I used to think my white chamber was my prison. I was locked in there for as long as I’ve began to acknowledge what I was. I would sit there and have human beings visit me once in a while. The ones in white coats with white gloves were the most intriguing ones. They would sit there with me for hours, mostly staring and talking, very rarely interacting with me physically. They made it seem like being a prisoner was not as bad.
But being their prisoner was worse.
I grew up in that place. I grew up with them, seeing their faces every day and every night, hearing those voices… It started to get strange. Very strange. My mind would replay their words, those words that always reached so deeply into me… “Tell me what you feel.” “Are you scared?” Scared…? Is that another way to express fear? What is fear? Is it a feeling? An emotion?
I began to understand. I finally did. The moment I stared into one of the humans’ eyes, I understood immediately what fear was. I felt. I felt fear. I had always felt fear around them, I was just never aware. I was completely oblivious to my own feelings.
Or was I?
I was always aware there was something crazy going on inside me. The voices in my head were starting to drive me insane. I never understood what they wanted… What I wanted. It was like I was desperate to get something, to obtain it and keep it forever…
Yes. I figured it the moment I became aware I could feel. I had wanted to feel. I wanted to understand what it was like. I don’t remember how young I was. I was just very small. I began to like that idea, the concepts of emotions. The humans suddenly appeared different. They were no longer the cold, blank creatures I once saw. They were not the mysterious figures awakening fear in me. No. They awakened something greater than fear.
I’ve seen what lied in the void of their eyes… They used to say the eyes are the gateway to one’s soul… But truly…? Was that the nature of these human beings? Was that how truly monstrous they were? I had unraveled what was covered in darkness… But what I found was darker. It was horror.
It was then waves of emotions washed over me. It was overwhelming. It was unbearable. Harder to bear than fear…
The way they were looking at me made me feel like prey. They were the hunters and I was the prey. They were hunting my soul, they were desperate to get something out of it… My emotions, my feelings…? No… My essence… My very being… They wanted to see who I was… what I was… When I myself had nothing but a vague idea. A vague idea, yes, that under no circumstances represented a human being. As for the feeling… No, I cannot tell what it was. Horror, perhaps? No, something closer to… desperation.
Yes, desperation. But why was I feeling desperate? Was it just the natural instinct of prey to escape from its predator? Perhaps…
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