ᵣₐbbᵢₜ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ Bₗₐcₖ Cₕₐₘbₑᵣ

Cₕₐₚₜₑᵣ ₁₆: Dᵢₛqᵤₐₗᵢfᵢₑd ₐₛ ₐ ₕᵤₘₐₙ bₑᵢₙg

    "Do you remember what it was like to be human, Kororo? The sensation of being truly alive?"

"Remember? 'Tis a strange inquiry. I recall fragments, moments—fleeting glimmers that seem more like echoes than memories."

"Fragments, echoes—how peculiar. What do these memories feel like? Do they carry any weight?"

"They feel heavy, like shadows lurking in the recesses of my mind. It's as if I am grasping at something once solid, now insubstantial, elusive."

"Elusive. So, you cannot quite grasp it. Do you think the act of remembering makes the essence of being human more tangible or more distant?"

"Distant, I'd say. The more I endeavor to grasp those memories, the more they elude me, becoming something abstract, something I can no longer fully touch or comprehend."

"It seems that memory, rather than anchoring us, might only deepen the void of understanding. What remains of these memories? Mere shadows of what once was?"

"Aye, shadows. They're fleeting glimpses of feelings—joy, sorrow, pain—all tangled in a web of confusion. 'Tis like trying to clutch at mist. The harder I strive, the more it slips through my fingers."

"And what of the sensations themselves? The physical aspects of being human—do they still resonate with thee?"

"Sometimes, yes. There's a specter of sensation, a faint echo of warmth or cold, of touch and taste. But these sensations are distant now, more like memories of memories."

"Memories of memories. How intriguing. Does this distance make the sensations more valuable or less? Do they carry more weight because they are now so removed from thy reality?"

"Perhaps more valuable because they are so distant, so rare. There's a sense of yearning attached to them—a desire to return to something once so real but now beyond reach."

"Longing. A potent emotion. But is longing enough to define thy experience? Or does it merely highlight the absence of something more concrete?"

"Longing may be all that remains, a constant reminder of what was lost. It defines my current state, yet also serves as a painful reminder of what can never be reclaimed."

"In that longing, dost thou find a semblance of what it means to be human? Or dost it merely emphasize the chasm between who thou art now and who thou wert?"

"It emphasizes the chasm, certainly. Yet it also hints at what being human was—an intricate dance of emotions and sensations once vivid and real. Now, they are shadows, haunting reminders of a different existence."

"Dost thou believe that this chasm, this void, may ever be bridged? Or art thou condemned to dwell in the echoes of a forsaken past?"

"'Tis a bleak prospect. To bridge this chasm seems a folly, a futile endeavor. The void gapes wide, and each attempt to cross it only reveals its insurmountable expanse."

"Folly, indeed. Does the very notion of crossing this chasm imbue it with a sense of inevitability, a shadow of despair that looms larger with each passing moment?"

"Aye, it doth. The very striving to bridge it only casts my plight into sharper relief, a reminder that the gulf between what I was and what I am is unbridgeable."

"Unbridgeable. So, in thy futile attempts, dost thou find any semblance of truth or revelation, or merely an amplification of thy torment?"

"An amplification, surely. Each attempt is but another reflection of my despair, a mirror held to the fractured remnants of my humanity. It doth only deepen my anguish."