Chapitre 1: Life of ?(1)
I..., I..., I, who am I?
I remember when I first asked myself this question I was 4 years old, not 3 years old at that time it was as insistent as breathing I was confused.
'if I remember correctly, all I remember before that was me being absolutely empty' that was my second thought, I can't exaggerate but the feeling was the same, the realization of having no memories of before that, the newness and uniqueness of simply existing was mine first happy memory.
Then I looked around and saw myself in a bed and thought 'I'm in bed and I'm holding a bottle, but what is a bottle and what is a bed I didn't know but did I know?' and then instinctively I cried and when I looked ahead I saw a woman my mother and I thought 'mother' I didn't know anything about this being but when I looked at her I felt relieved and then she called my name "##@@$ @$!!#%!^*"(in this case the symbols represent a dry cut like an abrupt change from one TV channel to another channel)
my memory cuts and moves on to the next one.
I was standing still, I was 3, maybe it was 4, or maybe 5 years old, no, I think I was 3, I was sitting on a staircase and next to me was someone, but somehow I think, no, I'm sure It's my grandmother, but 'what's a grandmother' I remember little about that day but it has so many cuts in one '"day'" I'm saying something until a school bus comes to pick me up from school.
on another day in the same place there is a memory without a defined date, where I play badminton while talking to my grandmother "grandma, I want to be an astronaut, not an architect, not an engineer" I think I said each of these professions, in days different but I'm not sure.
and so my existence was made up of fragments of experiences that I had until I was 4 or 5 years old, when I actually existed concretely and after that I can only say that I actually existed after I was 5 years old and before that I had my pictorial existence, and before I was 3 years old it was like when I was chopped up with no touch, no speech, no smell, no vision, no thoughts, everything from before I was 3 years old is like nothing just an absolute nothing a part of me hates remembering that and another part wants to go back to that state where I only have miserable remnants of sensory memories from nothing.
so it was a small part of #$^@*!%'s life at that time I was happy and I knew it, but at that time I was unhappy and I didn't know it, at that time I loved myself and I knew it, at that time I hated myself and I didn't know it from that...
This was the first and most defining phase of #$^@*!%'s life.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone