The decline of the human mechanic

I raise a glass to humanity. I admit, I took the characteristics of being human for granted. Being human is probably the most amazing thing I could be, the most amazing thing we could be. Usually, people don’t appreciate their humanity enough; we tend to focus on our problems and difficulties. Even those who do appreciate their humanity eventually go through experiences that lead them to change their minds. And then there are those who look down on all other forms of life around them. Unfortunately, everyone is like that – and I was too. Actually, I was like that. But now, everything is different for me. In fact, everything changed a long time ago. I don’t really know how long it’s been since I was put into this... situation.

There is a certain beauty in pain and suffering, but I didn’t appreciate it until now. Life forced me to appreciate my humanity through the madness that began so many years ago. A long time ago, I found myself in a horrible car accident. There was no way to save me conventionally. Luckily, or maybe not, science had advanced to the point where cyborgs were possible. When I talk about cyborgs, I mean human brains and organs existing within, and supported by, a mechanical, androgynous body powered by some form of clean nuclear energy. I was the first successful cyborg in the world. The first person to be trapped in a tin can instead of an organic body. It felt great... for those who gave me my new mechanical body.

I didn’t feel great.

At least they felt something. I feel nothing. Every touch, every sensation, is without any real physicality. Even images and sounds don’t come to me the way they used to. They just rush at me, without me processing them as I once did. I don’t even hear my own voice anymore, at least not the way I used to. All I hear is the rusty, creaking sound of a metal door. The inability to feel and the complete lack of stimuli cause tremendous stress. People in my condition would have started hallucinating, but I can’t even get to that point. All I have left are thoughts, thoughts that spin endlessly and torment me, it hurts in a metaphorical way. And from moment to moment, more thoughts, more pain, creating an endless loop of muted mental anguish.

I don’t like what I’ve become. I tried to tell them that before all the upgrades, my life was just as good as that of a dead man, but they simply didn’t listen. So I was forced to endure the agony for endless hours. Then they decided to transfer all of humanity into mechanical bodies, in hopes of solving our physical and psychological problems, and achieving a kind of immortality. I tried to warn them, but they ignored me. Eventually, I became so desperate that I resorted to violence – even then, they didn’t change their minds. They just locked me in here and forgot about me.

Time no longer belongs to me. Decades have passed since I underwent this transition – and who knows how much time has truly passed. I’m recording this in case someone, someone who still resembles the humanity we once had, finds this cursed metal body and learns from our mistakes. I only hope that whoever finds it won’t end up in the same hell we’ve created for ourselves.

And now you’re probably wondering – "What the hell is he talking about? How can he speak of times so distant as if they’re the present?" Well, yes, everything you’ve read so far is fiction. Like it or not, everything I’ve described here is just science fiction.

But the truth is, my hand was forced to write this because of the state I’m in. So you’re probably wondering – "What happened to a person like me that led him to write such a dark, apocalyptic, and egocentric piece of fiction?" Well, the truth is, I was diagnosed with borderline, histrionic, and narcissistic personality disorders, along with clinical depression.