The myth of 'me'

14

Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Can you feel your warmth again? The sight of her laying there, scrunching her face while looking at me, the sight will haunt me forever.

You nodded at me when I tried talking to you, you nodded at me when I said you'll come back home, you moved your hand.

You can't leave me yet, I know you're tired, ohh, oh I know you are, you told me

Gott GOTT HASST MICH, GOTT HASST MICH GOTT HASST MICH, Jahre lange, Jahre lang hab ich ihn angebettelt mich zu nehmen, und jetzt will er sie anstatt, GOTT WARUM HASST DU MICH

Gott hasst mich, also hasse ich Gott auch.

Ich habe Angst vor Gott.

Recently the feeling of not feeling has overtaken my body, what I mean is I don't feel like I control my actions, everyday actions.

I eat something, but I don't control the fork closing in on my mouth. I walk, but I'm not the one wishing to actually walk.

I've no control, the constant routine has influenced my body and mind to an extent that I perceive as unnatural.

So what am I? A human is defined by its knowledge of the factual ideology of free will.

So if I do not have said free will, free will over my actions anymore, what am I?

Am I not human? Am I a bad example of a human? Am I simply the unidentifiable mind of a body? Or am I no longer human? (pun intended)

If I am no longer human, simply a mind with a seemingly mindless body, then who am I?

Am I the mind, or am I the body? Am I the brain, or am I the flesh? I cannot be both, I don't wish to be both.

If a person has no control over their actions they lack free will, tho free will is what defines human, so people without free will are?

Aliens? Bad humans? Normal people? People with issues?

Sisyphus, the God who was doomed to forever push a round stone upwards, for eternity.

He was a god (in this thesis, tho I do not believe in his existence), but while pushing up this rock all day everyday, what does that make him? After a while you'd become a mindless creature, with no control over the physical flesh which has grown accustomed to doing the same action always.

And what does the mind do during this time? It thinks, maybe, maybe it has already turned off completely to try and ignore the pain originating from this gruesome task.

But let's say that the mind keeps thinking, sisyphus shall push the rock up the mountain, which he does, even unknowingly so with his body just doing whatever it has learned over centuries. The mind will think.

Why am I still doing this?

Why am I pushing this stone?

I'm tired.

I wish to stop.

But naturally, it doesn't stop, for the body keeps moving, for the happenings in the mind stay unsaid thoughts.

I am a being devoid of ability and talent.

I do enjoy reading philosophy books, or rather, it makes me feel superior.

Have you ever read a philosophy book?

They are idiotic.

Philosophers are good at using many words but making said words hold onto nothing, going on and on about a theory or general morals in a way that makes no sense.