So I think I might be dead.
That’s not the problem though. I mean, okay, it’s not great but actually we’re dealing with it, you know? We’re dealing with it and it could have been much, much worse. There could have been hair loss, there could have been skin disease, biological decay, bad breath–I know how lucky I got.
The thing is, the issue–I think we’re supposed to say it’s an issue these days–the issue is, I’m not sure I’m human any more. I’m not sure I can remember what being human means. If it’s two arms, two legs, a head and all sorts of bits in between, then that’s okay: so far so good. Is it a feeling? Is there an easy formula for humanity–is it loss, or hope, or guilt, or grief, or joy, or pain? Is it hunger or thirst? Is it a longing, a desiring, an imagining of things which could be desired, a wondering of what is to come? Is that it? There was a time before, when these things seemed simple. And now… we are become so much more. We are sorcerer, we are Midnight Mayor, we are electric angel, we are greater than the world around us and for all this we are…
Unique.
Special.
Alone.
Is that what it means to be human?