We live inside sacks of skin. I peel an orange and think of how easy it would be to unmake myself. To slip a finger under the surface, to feel the wet separation of self from self.
We can touch our lips, our hearts, but never the brain that makes us ache. It whispers things. I hear it crying, laughing, screaming. It tells me I’m only pretending to be alive. That my skin isn’t mine. That someone else is moving me from the inside. I think it watches through my eyes, waiting for the day I finally peel the rest away.
Wonderful story touching so deeply at many levels
Reminds me of the Star Trek episode where the silicone-based beings call humans “carbon bags of water.”
Reminds me of Dr who when they unzip human skin to reveal alien form