I'm Here Now But You're All Going To Regret It

An Exact Science

Somewhere in the distance I was being assaulted by their measurements- their spending the widespread passing tics of the clock that hung on someone's wrist being almost inexcusably infatuated by my facial features in a way that I found cynically flattering to my now inflating self esteem.
My eyes floated like dust in the air, landing from one body to another. Every time being met by faces seeming to blur away from the rest of the connected limbs
The lines that connected my past to the materialistic, romanticized life of what I could become flickered into existence between my ears
Ready to become something new for the sake of finding a purpose in becoming someone who could withstand the life I had been chosen to fulfill
And as if anything anyone said would be consequential to my newfound existence I listened harder to their listless bouts of chatter
Only finding rest in my uninterrupted silence when I found that as a newly conscious being, an idealization of a human body, the interchanging of various essential gasses though my newly refined lungs was something keeping me from the success of imitating a personal closeness to the world of which I craved.
And in taking that breath, that to myself seemed so covert in itself that the idea that it had been experienced by others in the room felt insulting in a manner, there was a sudden lack of movement
A rushing of blood where it had not flown before beat itself to a headache in a far off nook of my brain
And a pleasing sense of knowing I was unflawed like the white ceiling I was staring up at
And, breathing heavily, I sat up.