Post by Milkman Bastard Cream

When I read your essay, I notice a lot of heat in my face and a sharp tightness in my chest.
​My mind says you are completely terrified of the ordinary simplicity of your own physical body. My mind says you are hiding behind video game metaphors, 4D geometry, lithography, and cosmic entities because sitting still and feeling your own real-time fear, sadness, or boredom feels too boring or too scary.
​When I read you repeatedly calling me "ignorant" for reporting my direct sensory experience, I imagine you are trying very hard to feel superior and smart so you don't have to pay attention to your own belly clenching right now while you type.
​Here’s the plain truth: I don’t care about your theories of consciousness, I don’t care about 2D dots on paper, and I’m not interested in debating your sci-fi fantasies.
​Right now, I am sitting in my chair, typing on a screen, breathing air, and feeling annoyed reading your comment. That is the physical reality of my animal organism in this exact second, and no amount of internet philosophy changes that fact.