On Being Disgusted
People are born disgusted. It's cold. It's wet. It's bright. You are carried to a spot and washed off. There is sticky, slimy crap everywhere. You feel like you've been through the wringer. Your back hurts, your face feels bruised.
You're a mess.
Welcome to Earth
Okay. You are here, now. You don't have any friends. You don't really know anybody. There is one person who you recognize because of their noise. Yeah. You've been listening to a drum banging for your entire life, and now, there is a wall separating you from that noise. You can still vaguely hear it if you press your ear close to the creature who holds you close.
You can't walk. You can't talk. When you try to talk, sounds come out. No words. Just meaningless screaming. You're disgusted.
On Being Here
A few months ago, if anyone would have told you that you were going to be sucked down into a passageway and popped into an environment like this one, would you have laughed in their face?
"Yeah, where did you hear that one?"
The experience of being here has been disgusting, already.
Making the Best of Things
Okay. So. On to learning new things. Some things are still the same. Still have the fingers. Still have the toes. Still able to chew on them. Thank heavens for small favors. At least you have something to occupy your mind.
So. Back to why you are here. What next? You have a language barrier. You have large creatures that breathe on your face and make noises. "goo goo". "baby..."
The five senses are working. You can taste them. You can see them. You can hear them. You can feel them. You can smell them.
What does this all mean? What is that smell? What did they eat? Garlic? Onions? [is that a thing?]
Not a Clue
At this point, you can become anything you feel like. The only thing that separates you from being what you want to become, is someone else telling you that you cannot.
You heard that right.
The only thing that keeps you from being whatever you want to be, is someone else telling you that you cannot.