| Friday, April 17th, 11:50 Humans were slaves to genes, which created our bodies to hold them. And we, as slaves to our genes, want nothing more than the liberation of an unexpected death. If we expect death, then our genes make us flee from it. And since we are stuck in this reality, we are forced to keep ourselves alive. All our pastimes and hobbies are just distractions that we create for ourselves to forget our own existence. It was basically if Freud’s ideas were combined with an unrelenting pessimism and hopelessness.
I decided to get a shower, still convinced that acting normally would help me get over it. When I got naked, though, I saw my penis, and perceived it as a complete Freudian, an instrument of reproduction, a valve from which spews more viral, human poison. I even tried putting relaxing music on while I was in the shower. But again I perceived it as just a pastime to help me forget my own miserable existence. I got out of the shower and went to my room. I looked at the clock and saw that it was only noon, though it felt as if several hours had passed. Still dripping wet, I laid in my bed, curled in the fetal position, and tried to sleep. I felt nauseous at my own body’s complexion, not in an insecure way, but through the perception that it was the housing facility of a gene that only wished its own propagation, one six-billionth of the human germ. Unable to take it any longer, I forced myself to vomit, and laid down again, trying to sleep. I called another friend, who stayed on the phone with me for an hour, until the heavy clouds of hallucinogenic-induced negativity had passed.
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