I’m starting to feel a bit like an S&M teddy-bear owned by a child with multiple personality disorder.
You mean a schizophrenic S&M teddy-bear under the delusional impression that it is owned by a child with multiple personality disorder. A cuddly psychopath, in other words.
True. Not very cuddly, actually. What would Freud make of it?
Trust me, you don’t want to know. Just deal with it.
But I’m finding it almost…enjoyable.
That’s exactly why you have to deal with it.
If I do, will you let me read Harry Potter?
Only after you finish Derrida.
Bitch.

Consciousness can feel like a curse in this age of duality:
Our bodies stuck in the present.
Our minds constantly chasing the future or haunted by the past.
Our kind was clearly not meant to experience inner peace.
Blame drugs for the knowledge, and everything else.