Chapter Text
How does anyone get up in the morning? It's just chore after chore, only the monotony of habit allowing people to go through it day after day, mechanically.
I don't actually register getting up in the morning. I haven't for a long time. My day starts after I get dressed for the day.
I look in the mirror, and think "that's me." What else could it be? It's always been me. I've been this forever, haven't I? Big braids I can't remember braiding, big glasses I forget I'm wearing half the time. Nose. Mouth. Eyes.
...Boobs, stomach, arms, legs. Face. Did I already say face? Feet, I guess.
Sometimes I look down at it and can't believe this is what I actually look like. How can I live like this? Why are these my proportions? I feel so sick. I don't even understand what it is that triggers my feeling like that, it just does.
Like what the crab am I even looking at? I stare and stare until the shapes lose meaning, it's not even a body anymore. It's not a person. This isn't what a person looks like, surely. I'm not a person. Change, I'm not a person.
Why hasn't anyone warned me that I'm not a person before? Seems like something I'd need to know. Then again, I'm not any less of a person than a cat is, probably. Maybe it just wasn't important enough to tell me. Maybe I'm person enough that it's not that important. Human-adjacent.
What the crab am I even thinking now? Of course I'm a person. What else could I be? Rule of elimination means that... That I have to be a person, because nothing else is shaped like this. I'm person shaped. I have to be. Even though I can't tell, that just means there's something wrong with my eyes again.
If only I could get a new prescription in the middle of this gems-blasted apocalypse.
Ah-ah-ah.