Breaking the mold

Chapter 8: humanity

In my slumber, I communicated with my people and was able to expand my mind as wide as it would go; however, during my days, I had no memory of my Taylorn existence. Even now, only bits and pieces come back to me.

It is strange how memory works. We can go our entire lives as angry young men and in the impotence of dementia, we seem to only remember the most poignant of memories.

To give an example, it has been years since the dark times in the human body but I remember a girl. I was 10 or 11 perhaps but she ran around the playground with flowing wavy, blonde hair. She wore a pink windbreaker and smelled of strawberries.
In retrospect, I'm not sure if she actually smelled of strawberries or if it was simply my favorite of the human smells but she was perfect in the light of the dawn. That mid-morning light when children go to play without the luxury of complicated playground equipment and rather a wood chip floor with a metal ceiling to accompany their demure fragility.

There she was and there I was and she was in love with another little boy as I stood on the outside looking in. I was the child who couldn't remember how to ask to go to the bathroom in Spanish so the Spanish teacher let me wet my pants. I was the kid who put periods between words as I had not mastered the intricacies of the English language and yet... Ah, the immortality of that bubble in my shapelessness now.

I remember as a young man, I once stopped at a stop light and in a day dream, I accidentally unlocked a smidgen of my Taylorn consciousness.  For a moment, not only did I feel like I didn't belong in this world but I felt disassociated from my body as well.  Think of a time that you were at a party that some friend had dragged you to and then left you with people you didn't know or recognize.  Now what if one of those people was yourself?

Life was a blur to me. So much violence and recklessness. I remember trying to destroy my mind with drugs as a young man. The strain of philosophy and complex algorithms I did not understand weighed on my mind as they had on my form as an energy creature.

I endured great pain at the hands of mortal villains because of my awkwardness. I simply tried to enjoy the fruit of humanity without focusing on the bitterness of it and was often ostracized for my troubles. Some line in the Sand that humans would always draw between each other and then tell me that I couldn't cross it because it might make someone uncomfortable.

As years passed in my human form I crammed myself full of everything they had to offer and it was never enough. Books seemed dull and they missed their obvious motifs; equations missed a denominator or variable which would inevitably unlock the universe to them. I never shared with any of them my findings. I realized that they were too young and in my 73rd year of life, I began to awaken. My human mind began to die and with it, it released my Taylorn thoughts more and more.

The irony is I would sit by the window looking out into space and would secretly be imbued with such knowledge of the universe, even if I could relay the message to younger humans, they would never understand.

This race was too focused on its selfishness on the things that made them different to ever understand how they could be pure energy that observed the laws of strict relativity.

In my wheel chair, I sat by an open window. A nurse sat by close at hand. I felt the breeze and heard a voice. It was Taylorn and called to me for an assessment of humanity.