I have come to despise this body of mine.
This body that must be fed.
This body that must sleep.
This body that so greedily hungers for air; consistently, and without prejudice.
This body that is such a hopeless victim of the tyrannical restrictions of gravity.
This body that has such vehement desire for certain...carnal delights.
As a young man, I certainly used to relish these desires.
I still do, from time to time.
But lately, I have come to despise them, as well.
I have come to feel that they are not my own.
The desires of this physical cage are simply the end results of eons of evolutionary psychology and millennia of societal conditioning upon which I had no influence. I did not have any choice as to which society into which I was born. Why should I be expected to simply be a sum of the collective parts of someone else's whole? Why are people afraid to question what they know?
I do not want these desires anymore.
They have begun to feel almost alien in origin.
I am tired of satiating the constant needs of this infinitesimal, clumsy, pathetic representation of my being.
I yearn for a reality in which I could exist separate from my body.
A reality where I could exist simply as a series of synapses and electrical impulses, and perhaps the necessary ethereal qualities that define and sustain a mind.
A reality in which I could exist as a consciousness with limitless potential for thought.
Potential not so hindered and broken as the potential to which I am currently limited by this unfamiliar, almost foreign form.
What a thought.
What an exhilarating thought.
But...I suppose that this reality for which I yearn will forever remain a simple yearning.
A fantasy, if you will.
So, I suppose that for now I should just suck up my disappointment and, despite knowing that I probably never will, try to acclimate myself to living within the confines of these carnal walls.