williammoore-1892

[williammoore-1892]

What if you started making animals parts of yourself and not humans? Would that feel better? Since humans already consume animals and it is mostly not considered immoral?

hello . the truth is , i already do . animals , big and small , rarely make it close enough to me to become a part of me . their instincts more often then not tell them to stay away from this place , and from me . i have established that i am not human , for myself as well , but i do smell like one , so animals tend to detect that . however , on those rare occasions i get animals close enough , i invite them , too .

that said , they are simply not enough . i do not care about my guests fear . i care about change of their form and mine , even if i have been doubtful as of late . but i know , i can feel it , that it is in great part fear that keeps me alive . it is the price i pay to the power that gifted me this form . of course animals are afraid of me , in a way that any animal is afraid of a bigger and stronger one , and of something it is not . it is a simple , primal fear . and it just is not enough . people are afraid of me for a different reason . they are scared because parts of me look so much like them , but in a greater picture , they know i am something completely different . and then , they feel it too . that their skin , and muscle , and fat is not right , too . and it scares them even more . they run , and if they do not , they join me .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . i needed some time to think after bertha came to me yesterday . it went well , do not get me wrong . she brought those tapes in , we listened to them together . it is easy to distance yourself from those stories , no matter how real they are , when they are told by a stranger who did not even experience them himself . that is why ones , there the subject was the storyteller , stood out the most to me . although i must admit , for someone as indifferent as that man sometimes seemed to be , he acted those stories out surprisingly well .

there was one told by a woman , who was reborn in fire , skin , muscle and fat melted into wax . i must admit, as much kinship as i felt with her , she also terrifies me . destruction is distant to my nature , i do not destroy , i change . besides , i think fire would be the only thing able to kill me . and , despite all of my doubts, i do not want to die yet .

there was one about a gravedigger . he found solace in soil , as it rid him of his nightmares , and a true sense of self in all those graves he had dug up , and so , he wanted to share his solace with others . i understand him , too .

but there was one which has truly spoken to me . it was about a man , and a book , which has taught him about flesh and bones . i remember the exact phrasing . the bits of himself he actually liked . and so , he got a chance to change , to construct himself into what felt right . i was touched by his story , in a way, because of how similar we turned out to be . i wonder if he is still around . if we could meet . i do not think there would be much for us to talk about , but i would love to see his form for myself .

there is one commonality all of these stories and myself share . we all escaped a life we dreaded .

now i realise that , even though bertha is like them , like me , she never told me about what she was before and how she came to be who she is . what life did she escape ? well , i would not rush her . she will tell me in due time , when she is ready .

[williammoore-1892]

William, I think you put too much thought into what defines a human while forgetting that every answer is subjective. Humanity is unique in a sense that we are completely devoid of instinct, every trait, behaviour, thought and desire is learned. That's what makes humans different from the rest of the fauna, the innate need to learn to exist. But that's the species, and we are so much more than just a body. We are a mind, and if that mind is inhuman, that's what matters the most.

It's a strength, because we define what we are. Everything is a choice. And if one chooses to reject the label "human", for whatever reason it is no less valid than choosing to drink mint tea instead of chamomile.

You are a human until you say you aren't, until you chose to transcend. You say you aren't, therefore you aren't. It is that simple. You may be made of same material, under a microscope you may look like us, you may still be classified as a homo sapient, but you aren't a human, because humanity is a construct. And construct that doesn't serve gets demolished. It doesn't serve you, William. It did serve people from that book. That's why they are human and you aren't.

hello . your words gave me a lot to think about , and , in a way , they had put me at ease . i find myself questioning things so much as of late , and i am thankful to you for helping me understand myself more , at least a little .

i have always been easy to convince , i admit , and so , for a certain part of my life , humanity as a concept carried much significance to me . and then , after i changed , it had suddenly lost all meaning . and for the time being , for so many years to come , humanity did not bother in the slightest . it did not cross my mind , at that matter . but now i find myself thrust back into some semblance of society . it is hard to perceive as a real one , and even harder it is to conceptualise that behind this screen there are people , too . still , i find myself back at that threshold of humanity . am i truly indifferent to it now ? and am i truly inhuman ?

you have set me on a path i have yet to walk . but i do not know which steps to take yet . it is not like i can walk .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . bertha came to me later than usual today again , and after our argument yesterday , i could not help but worry . i knew she is reasonable and she would not abandon me over such a trifle , but the thought kept nagging at my mind . however , i was worried about her bringing up the topic which led to our disagreement again even more .

thankfully , bertha arrived in the end , later in the afternoon . she tried to hide it , but i knew she felt uneasy . bertha did not bring up our arguement herself , but it had troubled me , too , so i had to bring it up instead , despite my worries . i apologized to her and she apologized to me . she said she should not have rushed me , and i said i just need some more time .

i told her about the book , what doubts it had brought up in me . it is just . . . so much . what happens if i do accept that quentin is gone ? what happens if i do accept that fusing people to myself is not good ? can i just erase what i am , revert it ? i know i would be miserable as a human . do i just keep doing what i am doing , making people a part of myself ? or do i stop and wittle out ? i know if i stop , i will eventually . bertha feels it in herself , too . it is different for her , but she , too , has to feed . not like me , but not like other humans . and she , too , feels weak when she stops .

this all weighs so heavy on me . i feel a need to distract myself with something . i asked bertha to bring more statements from that institution she works for so we could listen to them together . maybe they would help me figure something out .

[williammoore-1892]

You say you enjoyed Hannibal, in part due to its morbidity. I have a book I can recommend, actually. It's called All Tomorrows, written by Nemo Ramjet/C.M.Kosemen. It touches a lot on the transformation of a human form, and while it starts as morbid, they too find solice and beauty in their new shapes. I'm afraid I can't send you a file, so ask Bertha to find it for you. It seems to be a piece with which you will connect

hello . well , after bertha left , i had a chance to familiarize myself with this book . to summarize , i have very conflicted feelings about it , and it has definetely left a very strong impact on me . i think i will need some more time to interhnalize it , but i might as well give you my initial thoughts now .

throughout all of the book i had projected my own experiences and existense onto its world and its people , but i had constantly questioned my likeness to one faction or the other . am i more like qu ? or more like people they have changed ? maybe that is the point . long , long time ago i was merely a human , maluable and so , moulded into a new shape , until i could mould others in a similar manner . modular people seemed the most like me among the human species on a surface level , with their bodies consisting of countless individual organisms . at least they had a purpose , each individual with a role to play . but is it not too burdensome ? perhaps , i am freeing my guests of those roles . it is good . i was , too , dealt a set of roles . a son , a student , a young gentleman . i had so many expectations laid on me , but at the very moment i had gained this form , all of those expectations were lifted of off me .

and i have thought about humanity . all of those people had been changed beyond recognition , stripped of their identities , but they still retained that title . human . do i still qualify as a human ? does it even matter to me at this point ? the nature of my change is very different from one in this book , so i might not be , even though i might look more human than some people in this book . it is for good , that i am inhuman .

truth be told , i rarely read fiction because i tend to internalise it too much and start doubting my own preconceptions . i do not know if my sentience has brought me more joy or more grief . perhaps , if quentin has truly lost his sentience , it is good . he would not be burdened with thought anymore . sometimes i wish i could be unburdened by it , too .

[williammoore-1892]

i know people here (and apparently in your circle too) are sure that quentin is gone, but he's like.. a part of your body. if anyone knows he's alive, it's you. i'm not sure how bertha's abilities work, but even if she cannot grasp a separate mind, his mind may very well be a dormant part of yours. i'm sorry you got such a wave of upsetting comments, but you should trust yourself first

hello . i am glad you understand . yes , i suppose i myself do not fully know how her powers work . i never wanted to think that lowly of her , but she might have lied to me .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . after telling you about quentin yesterday , i have received an influx of new terms in the replies from people here . it was , frankly , overwhelming , but this morning i had an opportunity to ask bertha what they all meant . for example , turns out i was right and people do not use gay as a synonym of happy anymore , but instead it is used for men , or , otherwise , people who are not women , who experience attraction towards other men . this does hold some truth regarding myself , i suppose .

on a different note , we actually had a bit of a fall out with bertha today . i can not stay mad at her forever , of course , but her words were very hurtful . after i asked her the meaning of all those new terms , she confronted me about quentin . she has known about him for a very long time now , not from my words , but after she gazed into my mind . bertha told me she did not want to bring it up if i did not , and now , that i seemed to be brave enough to post about it , she thought i would be ready to talk about it with her , too . but through all the time that i have known bertha , i never was ready . somehow , i knew what she would say . her eyes were so full of pity when she said it , too . she said that i need to move on . that quentin is gone . she knew because in all of my body the only mind she could grasp was my own .

i admit i did not handle the situation in the best way myself by telling her to get out , but i was on edge . i hope she comes back tomorrow and everything can be back to normal .

[williammoore-1892]

oh ? what should i be proud of ?

Diversity win! This people-consuming spawling being is non-binary and gay!

Love that for you, I'm so happy that your skeleton in a closet is not sexual harrasment charges, that's a refresher

hello . well , to your knowledge , i do not spawl . i may be inhuman , but i am not uncivil . unless you meant sprawling , which , i suppose , i might be .

i have been already introduced to what non binary means , but gay , well , i am for certain gay in this form , for it fits the shape of my mind , but i have a feeling gay does not mean happy anymore . bertha had told me a lot of words had lost or changed their meaning over time , which is natural , for a language is a changing beast , but i must admit i am not fully caught up to all of the modern err slang yet .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . i just noticed that the tags have turned all colourful , how curious . i would love to learn what it means , i shall ask bertha tomorrow .

Diversity win! This people-consuming spawling being is non-binary and gay!

Love that for you, I'm so happy that your skeleton in a closet is not sexual harrasment charges, that's a refresher

hello . well , to your knowledge , i do not spawl . i may be inhuman , but i am not uncivil . unless you meant sprawling , which , i suppose , i might be .

i have been already introduced to what non binary means , but gay , well , i am for certain gay in this form , for it fits the shape of my mind , but i have a feeling gay does not mean happy anymore . bertha had told me a lot of words had lost or changed their meaning over time , which is natural , for a language is a changing beast , but i must admit i am not fully caught up to all of the modern err slang yet .

[williammoore-1892]

It seems like the loss of Quentin has impacted you a lot. It must be a hard burden to carry. I offer my condolences, William.

hello . excuse me , but you must have misunderstood me . he is still alive . just in a bit of a different way . if you do not understand something , better not assume anything about it . your condolences are unnececary and , frankly , rude .

[williammoore-1892]

Diversity win! This people-consuming spawling being is non-binary and gay!

Love that for you, I'm so happy that your skeleton in a closet is not sexual harrasment charges, that's a refresher

hello . well , to your knowledge , i do not spawl . i may be inhuman , but i am not uncivil . unless you meant sprawling , which , i suppose , i might be .

i have been already introduced to what non binary means , but gay , well , i am for certain gay in this form , for it fits the shape of my mind , but i have a feeling gay does not mean happy anymore . bertha had told me a lot of words had lost or changed their meaning over time , which is natural , for a language is a changing beast , but i must admit i am not fully caught up to all of the modern err slang yet .

[williammoore-1892]

The same museum guy replying here.

Uhm, well, that sounds... Creepy, to put it mildly! No offence, once you get used to the weirdness of a usual human body, everything else above it becomes hard to comprehend.

How do you use a keyboard of a laptop then? Do you have some sort of limbs, fingers? Or do you just manifest commands to the thing with some higher mental powers? There is voice control, if one were to think about it.

And then, how have you become this way? What happened to you in the first place?

hello . at this point , i might actually start calling you the museum guy . it seems , you are fully content with calling yourself that , but i digress .

well , it might be creepy , as you put it , to an eye of a regular human being , i understand it . but , perhaps , you should be more open minded next time . maybe you will understand it , too .

i still have some semblance of arms . sure , they are misaligned and mismatched , both my hands with a wrong number of fingers , each with a wrong number of phalanges , and they are terribly awkward to use , but i am proud to say i am getting better . it is better than using one of those modern phones anyway , i can not imagine hitting any of the keys on that things small glass screen .

i was taken in by a higher power , which changed me , molded me and made me perfect . but to change something , to build something new , you have to break what it was first . and so , i was broken . those events that had befallen me seemed spontaneous , but now i know , they were all meant to bring me to what i am now . first , it was my voice , then , my arm and leg , and then my whole body . i was so scared because i did not understand what was happening to me yet , but it was my fear that brought along my final transformation . i had to be trully broken , strewn across the railroad , to be rebuilt and reborn as the thing that i am now .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . bertha was finally able to digitize this photo . it had been taken somewhere around my second year of university . you will probably recognise me on the right , but i want to tell you about the man on the left . my love . at that time , our bond with him only really started to blossom .

his name is quentin . not that the names of parts of me matter anymore , but his does . he is trully special . i wish cameras back then were able to capture small details better . you can not really tell by this picture , but quentin has freckles and his hands are rough and scabbed , covered in small cuts and splinters . his eyes are of a striking blue hue and he has surprisingly long lashes , but he could never grow a full beard . he would end up with those soft whiskers instead , and , to be honest , i loved that look .

we met on a train ride . it seemed we did not have that much in common . i was pursuing academia , and he engaged in manual labour , a true proletarian , as it were . still , he was rather educated and his witty remarks never failed to bring a smile to my face . he used to tell such stories , too . . . despite our differences , we seemed to click almost instantly . hours of talk with him seemed to pass like mere minutes and i never wanted to say goodbye .

quite some time had passed before we realised we could not be just friends . i did not have a lady friend , neither did he . but we had each other . it was unspeakable for two men to be in love in a way a man and a woman can be , so we kept it a secret . it was just for us , me and him , away from judging eyes . we would share our love in quiet nights , whispering it to each other .

i never felt well in my own skin , but he was the only one who made me forget about it . and when i finally changed , when i finally felt right , he still loved me back . he was the first one to see me , new and changed . he was afraid , oh he was , because i was no longer human , but when i called him by his name , he called me by mine . the fear did not go , but there was something else in his eyes . it was love . despite all his fear , he embraced me . he asked me what had happened to me , and i said i had become perfect . i melted into his arms , like i had always done when we hugged , and he melted right back into me , our bodies fusing together . and from then on , he did not let go off me ever again .

perhaps , the part of myself i want to see the most is his face . i do not dare to use his eyes or his voice . it would mean he is not in there anymore .

[williammoore-1892]

Okay, got that! But do you use the laptop while standing? 😭

Oh, and is the house a part of your body in a way?

(the person, who asked about you living in a museum :) )

hello . standing or sitting are not things i can do anymore . i just exist in a certain spot . not like a tree , rooted in the soil , but more like a heap of leaves , i suppose .

the house is not a part of my body in any way . i watched a documentary on hermit crabs recently . they do not have shells of their own , but they find shells , or , sometimes , man made things , and use them to survive . they can even change their shells if they grow out of their old ones . the differnce is , if i ever come to a point there i would need to change my shell , i would no longer be able to . perhaps then my body would have to spread outside , parts of it subjected to the elements .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . excuse me for not posting yesterday , but i would not say there was much to post about . i did not receive new questions until today , i believe , either . besides , one series caught my attention and i have watched it all through in two days or so . bertha called it binging .

it was one cruel piece of film , but i have seen my own body broken and twisted before it could become perfect , so that was not disturbing nor new to me . in fact , it was beautiful . it was different , but beautiful .

[williammoore-1892]

hello . under one of my posts michael had suggested i listen to an ensamble named miracle musical . not all songs were to my liking , but there were a few that turned out to be quite touching , both in the words and in the sound .

[williammoore-1892]

Sire, you've mentioned that during the pandemic, you had lesser guests. Do you live in a museum??? What was that supposed to mean... 😦

hello . no , i do not live in a museum , even though i am very old and one could say i belong there .

i live in a house , situated just far enough into the forest line to not be too obvious , but just close enough to the railroad for attentive bypassers to notice . it is not far from civilisation , the closest train station is just about half a mile away , but it is far enough to avoid constant attention . it is overgrown with vines and other vegetation and a few small animals have made their homes in its base . i know of the former because vines cover some of the windows , and of the latter because sometimes i would hear the little critters scuttling across the floor , and even less often i would see them . it is not a terribly small house , but it is not a big one , either . it has one floor , one bedroom , a living room , a study , a big dining room , a small kitchen , a small bathroom , an attic and a cellar . the furniture used to be simple and unplentiful , covering the residents basic needs , but now it is all rotten through . there are only two peices of furniture still suitable for use . they are a small foldable table and a chair . they do not belong to me . bertha brought them in right about when she started visiting me . i use the table when i want to use the laptop , but i do not use the chair , it is for bertha .

the house is not that walkable anymore . you could blame the rotten floorboards , but really , they are not that big of an issue . through the halways , the rooms , like meaty appendages , snake like masses of flesh stretch out , taking up most of the space . there are hands , legs and faces sticking out , all rearanged in a new , more fitting way . sometimes , you will see a glint in the half darkness . that means i am watching . the living room , the place , where all the masses join into one , would be the center . everything started there . it is the oldest part of myself . perhaps , the only sad thing about my new form is the fact that i will never see it . all i know of how it looks is what bertha had told me . but , perhaps , feeling it is more than enough .

the house , however , does not belong to me . but it belongs to someone i love . and so , i love this house , but it is not mine .