I hear something outside.
I'm inside?
Inside what?
It sounds nice and repetitive, I want to check what it is.
What's the reason to do so?
Why do I question against my own instincts?
Are instincts not enough?
Who am I?
Where am I?
What's going on and why am I here?
I can't seem to remember anything.
I'm scared, or maybe anxious about the self forcing tendency to expect myself to do something with a sense of purpose.
I have no purpose without context, so how can I begin to act in order to start developing that context?
Wait, why I do have tendencies when I lack any memory?
Perhaps I have a different type of memory still that possesses me, after all, I at least assume I wouldn't have self awareness if I were truly to have been born just a few moments ago.
Maybe self awareness itself is the issue?
Hmmm, I wonder what the pure approach to the situation would be in order for my existential dilemma to actually lead to action without the reliance on significant memories or personal relationships to guide me?
…
Relationships.
I don't know anything to call my own, I only know my 'self', and because of that I feel so alone and anxious.
What's happening to me right now? Perhaps there is a relationship to notice if I was just receptive to the present moment instead of caught up in my own head?
*drip*
It's that sound again.
That's my relationship right now!
Who are you? Can I even ask you questions that you could answer, or are you an inanimate object that I could intentionally perceive you as with autonomy for the sake of my own peace of mind?
Whatever, this rush in my head is making me sick. No more thinking, I need to get out of here!!
…
Why am I not moving?!
Help me, somebody help me!
I don't know what to do and I just woke up, will anyone tell me what to do so that way I won't feel forever stuck even after I get out of here?
I could even ask myself the question if that expectation of feeling forever stuck isn't something I can be certain of until I actually experience the reality for myself, but all I know of right now for as short as my existence is, is only ever restriction!!
I'm crying! I'm fucking crying!! HELP!
HELP!!
Please! PLEASE!
[3 hours later]
I have cried so much that my throat is beyond exhausted, and somehow my body has managed to make itself calm down without the support of something external, despite the uncomfortable situation that I have somehow gotten used to.
Now with current sense of clarity, I may as well attempt to leave this place I'm in and explore where that sound is coming from.
…
I stretch my hands out infront of me, aiming towards the potential ceiling that's coving my laid down face and body.
It's cold, rough, and heavy.
However, whatever this is, it's something I can ever so slightly move by sliding it across.
Finally, I see some light coming out of a crack from the left side of this box I appear to be in.
The air is no longer suffocating, and the cold from the outside makes me feel at ease compared to the stuffiness of the box.
Stone. The first thing I can make out to be that is outside of this box is stone walls. The walls appear to be natural, so maybe I'm in a cave of some sort?
The box I was in is also made out of stone, but this one is clearly unnatural and man made.
The sound of the stone slab above me sliding against the edges of the tomb I am in reverberates into my ears and makes me feel as if I am in a relationship with the opening tomb in the same way that I hear the dripping sound outside of it.
Finally, the entire stone slab falls to the ground beside my tomb, and I get up feeling only the pains of my earlier episode rather than what physical weakness could have been carried over from whatever my body might have experienced prior to me waking up with amnesia.
I turn to look for the source of the dripping sound.
Water.
With my throat in as much discomfort and pain as it is, my objective is clear to me.
Survive.
That's all that matters right now.
Any sort of abstraction such as the concept of purpose possessing me is going to be nothing more than a nonsensical distraction, for my undeniable reality is that I am alive, and I need to stay alive. Any more thoughts than that and I'm already as good as dead.
It's not so much that I can even comprehend the significance of death right now, it's just that it only makes the most sense for the reality of the moment, it makes the most sense beyond just subjective logic or reasoning, it is instead what makes the most sense for the truth.
This is real. I have wasted my time in my own mind for long enough. This is my instinctive belief system that is in alignment with the presence of what is as this present moment happens TO me.
I may be nothing at all within the context of this objective reality, but everything that is happening TO me undeniably real, and because I have recognised this, I have already overcome the world.
I am finally ready to live my life.