Same Soul, Just Reheated
It is the year XX30, and I still have yet to be born.
Every day is the same. I float and I obtain nutrients from my home. A holiday is coming up, I know because the morphic-lactate that sustains my life has changed hue. I lack the knowledge to determine the hexadecimal value, yet I can feel the altered lactic-wave vibrating my dormant hippocampus. It makes me want. I want to vibrate. But. I can not move, I do not posses limbs. My skin has already aged past 400 years and has become dark.
My father observes me. His eyes are wide. They hurt me. When I close my eyes, I can see his. His eyes are not like mine. Mine are old. His remain. Wide. Sharp. Before my father leaves, he writes down a few notes.
It hurts
I let the morphic-lactate fill all of me. I need my 15 minutes.
When I return into my morphic-state, I live a life that is not my own. A life that was mine before his. Time does not move, but I have limbs. I do not need morphic-lactate to live, because I can breathe. However, I still can not understand color. The air does not vibrate my hippocampus.
It hurts
I am alive, but I am not born. This morphic-state allows me to repeat the same day. This day is my day. The only day where it does not hurt.
My room is bright. I have not seen this color before but it gives me hope. So I named it myself. I named it SmileHopeHappinessLove, or SHHL for short. Things that do not hurt me are SHHL. I wish there were more SHHL in the world, so I made my morphic-state completely out of it.
Routinely, I am asleep. I do not know why my morphic-state body begins in stand-by before activating, but I am now used to it. My eyes greet the bright empty SHHL room. I twitch my arms to test their functionality. I can never be too sure when lactate is involved. All is SHHL. I am ready to enjoy life. Then I feel it.
It hurts
How can I hurt here? This is not my SHHL room.
I see it. It sees me. Five small fathers looking at me. The first father seems to be shy and avoids eye contact. He shyly guided my sight towards a lever bellow him and the four others. I do not know what they are trying to tell me but my hands can grab objects similar to levers.
I grab the lever. Father’s eyes widen. If I pull it, will I be born. Can my eyes become my father’s eyes?
It hurts
My room twisted around me and became dark. I felt myself age. My eyes carried more weight. Father, where are you? The new lactic-wave is altering my morphic-state.
Help, it hurts
The twisting spreads wide allowing large gaps of SHHL to bleed through. A curved figure is standing within the largest gap. I burn with new sensations. I can not be still. I jump. That is not enough. I pound my chest. Yes! I must name this feeling, JCP. This stands for JumpChestPound.
SHHL
The curved figure that makes me JCP comes closer. It touches me. Positions my lips and pulls me close.
It hurts
Sharp pain covers my lips and spreads through my nerves. This lactate has ruined my perfect SHHL state with Hurt and Pain. It has added twists and my father’s eyes. Yet the pain does not stop spreading. The pain amplifies and vibrates my hippocampus, sending out a reaction wave through the morphic-lactate.
I can no longer enter the morphic-state. All I am capable of is aging. It is the year XX31 and I am still not born.
