a human. for now.
Before I began working here, inside the worm, I was feeling weird as if something were a bit off with reality. I had felt this way for quite sometime. I ignored it. Not forever. Something, whatever was happening wasn’t going away. I knew asking the doctor would bring bad news. It did. Her words as I can recall them:
“As you know I have bad news. You’re what they call talentless. Some folks have talent especially by your age. You don’t. I know you probably think you can acquire it by applying yourself and trying your best and not giving up and all that crap. But I sense you’ve been down that road before. Uh huh. The self-help books, the seminars, the meditation retreats. As I thought. So what that means is that really no matter how much the little engine tries, it can’t. Something like this isn’t a big deal if you aren’t trying to live a life that depends on talent. Oh, you are? ———-Dreams take a while to die. The dark web holds a plethora of options to speed the process. I might be able to give you my old pass–no? Understand there’s nothing I can prescribe for this. Okay. Well, lucky for you there’s a state mandate to send your kind to work inside the giant worm. Society has your best interests in mind. I know you’re thinking you shouldn’t have come here. It’s always bad news with me. Am I right? Now get out of here you talentless fool. I’m kidding. It’s a joke. It’s also true you’re clinically talentless. I know, it stings.”