i feel absolutely no connection to our body. it's like, a doll we get to dress up and look pretty. it feels like an abstraction of the soul, a "form", a perversion most of the time. like any force, divine or not, could possibly cram all the blinding, screaming light into some sack of meat, scraping and desperate to keep moving.
this is already a dilemma for normal people, but can you imagine something so gargantuan and splintered being shoved into a vessel this small? there's like, already two distinct people in here, not to mention the billions of other threads floating around. it's fucking loud and not everyone has somewhere they can be in the physical. we ran out of chairs, some of you have to stand. can you imagine lining up all day for a body and you get paired with like a thousand other people in the same room? i feel kind of bad, but i like being the primary (if that's what you could call it.)
all of this makes intimacy hard. always tense. always holding back. always being pulled in a million different directions by crying babies who want their own way, and are usually terrified of something or another. i've felt real kinship during sex with one person on this earth and i'm very, very, very, very, very doubtful i ever will again. and even that was partly predicated on a pretty shallow false acceptance before this baby even had wings. there's too much shit raped into this thing and it's bursting at the seams.
it's weird to take the most radical act in modifying 'your' body, knowing it'll save you - and it does - but then ending up in the same place as before. like, sure. i'm glad this thing is a girl now. but it's damaged goods. no amount of tape and stickers can put us together how "normal" people are.
i'm on that transhumanist shit lately. call berkeley up. i fuck with idealism.
let's make it happen bro