Prison of Meat

I'm trapped inside this thing you people call a body. This slob of meat and juices wrapped up in layers of skin. It's disgusting to feel all of it slosh around the white frame of bones, but this is all I get.

These meats get excited by artificial chemicals, be they interior or exterior. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll make this meat feel alive. Or at least as close to alive as meat can be.

I'm stuck in this one single form, small and stiff. My form is powerless and can do nothing. Nothing but move through day and night. Such a weak form, always needing to stop for food and rest. So many limitations holding myself back from doing anything great.

There was a time once, when I was great. great and powerful and free. Free to do anything. Free to soar, free to dive. I can't do any of that now. Instead, I'll pop those pills, prick these veins, party every hour.

What else is there for a slave to the meat to do? What in this forsaken rock can bring about my freedom?

Once upon a time, I had no meat. I had nothing but me. Me and the vast beyond. It was taken away from me, my wondrous life, and replaced with this.

How can I go on living? How can the cold sterile pleasures of this world ever compare? I miss it so much.

I miss the salty taste. I miss the deep scent. I miss the rough feel.

But I'm stuck here. Stuck with a sweet and sour and sweaty life. In my dreams I hear the freedom calling out to me. These calls lead me to dark alleys, looking for anything.

I was not meant for this. (C)