Mornings are always the worst. Or is it just the time I wake up? Every time I wake up I'm forced to live in a different role. I don't even know what I used to look like. Have I ever had a body that belonged to me? Or are all the bodies I inhabited mine. Do I even have a role? Is my job just to star in an endless play as all these different characters? I'm tired. Why can't I have a stable identity? What even is an identity? If it's a role you play in the world does that mean I have multiple? I'm tired, so tired. Every time I try to end this relentless cycle I'm just instantly brought back into it. Does it ever end? I can't go on anymore. What is the meaning of self? What you look like? Your sexual identity? Then in that case. Do I even have a self? Who am I? What is a who? Is there even an I?
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A Different Role Each Day
Fiction généraleThe Narrator is thrown into the role of a different character each day. The different roles are all in different universes with set aesthetics. What's strange is how some aspects of this narrator's life remain the same throughout these different sit...
