The Break

This is just where I am. I've always been here. There has never been anything before this world. That's all I've ever known. Just these walls, a thing on top, and my bed. Sometimes I can see them, sometimes I can't see them, but they are still there. I have hit the bed and walls before.

I'm not sure what all this is, but that's okay. It just is. This is just the world. I've only ever been here, known this. I am just me and this is just the world. It is okay, but I sometimes feel like I am just missing something.

Why?

What is this small world I live in?

How does it move from light to dark?

These are all new thoughts to me, well, every thought is pretty new to me. They just came, and now it is a bit easier to track my world and remember things. I always seemed unaware of everything, just watching not absorbing. Until a bit ago I really didn't think at all, so it's really hard to know how long I was like that, but I do have some faint memories of it, random feelings.

Why was I like that?

Why did I change?

What happened, why did I all of a sudden seem to really see things? Now I can tell that the light comes from one single point in the room. Why does it sometimes turn off? There has to be a reason, right?

***

Looking at the light point hurts my eyes, but I can see a definite shape. I tried to touch it, and it hurt. Like when I accidentally hit the bed with my leg, or fall off, or smack into a wall. But different.

It became dark again. If everything else stays there when it turns dark, I wonder if it the light shape will be there now that it is dark. I reached up, felt around until I found it, and it was still there.

My bed does not move or change without me, so why does this change on its own?

How does this change on its own?

I don't understand these things. I don't understand why they happen, or what they are for. I don't understand this place, what it is doing, what it is for. I don't even know if I am supposed to understand this place.

***

I am starting to learn things about myself. If I smack my hands together it makes a loud sound. I can also exhale weird and make a pretty sound. I like to put the two together and make up new kinds of sounds and move my body with it as well. Without me, nothing makes sounds.

I am also learning more about my world. When the light is on, if I go under the bed it is much darker, but I can still see—there is no difference when it is dark though. I am also staring to be able to tell when it is going to be dark and when it is going to be light, I'm always able to do about the same amount of things when it is light, but sometimes when it is dark and I relax I have weird fake experiences of much bigger worlds and floating and going fast through them. Then it is light again, and I am back.

What are these? I don't think they are real, but where am I going?

I think I am starting to understand. I am here to learn about myself and this place.

The light is smooth, the wall is not quite smooth. The bed is soft, nothing else is—I kind of am, I suppose. The bed also squishes a little if I sit or jump on it, the floor does not, I also squish. I am pretty sure the bed and I are not the same thing though. We are differently colored and shaped differently. The thing the bed is on is hard and cold, much like everything else.

The bed is warm when I get up, and cold when I lay back down, but it doesn't give any light. So, I am not sure if the two are connected. Occasionally, parts of me are cold while others are not. I can make things warm if I touch them long enough, but there is never any light. I wonder if I can make myself warm enough to make light, but I am starting to think they are separate things, and the light is much much warmer than me. Nothing is warm if I haven't touched it except for the light, and nothing changes without me touching it, except for the light.