I sometimes feel that I am trapped
in this body and I don’t belong.
Other times, I see that I am both in and not in.
I am here doing the be a person thing but
I am also floating, transparent, slightly to the right
and behind, watching everything, weighing
the importance of every action, every decision,
noting, but not feeling any of my changing
psychological sates. He (I call him He)
has always been about twelves old in appearance,
but always my current age in consciousness.
He never speaks but his thoughts are my thoughts,
ordered and prioritized differently. He makes it clear
that he prefers fear and anxiety over joy and peace.
I am a scientist, I know that evolution
of homo sapiens sapiens stopped completely
several thousand years ago, So, here we are
all of us stuck with this almost Neanderthal
body that craves fat and fighting and promiscuous sex,
the latter prominent in but not limited to gay men,
heterosexual men, gay women, heterosexual women,
and the LGBTQ+ community, with individual exceptions.
It doesn’t take much pondering to see that fear
would have greater survival value than joy,
and fat yields nine calories per gram, carbs and protein four.
Promiscuous sex speaks for itself. These traits are fine
if you live in the stone age. But why
is my apparition clinging to these anachronistic instincts?
Steven Hawking postulates
that people with higher intellect will populate the world
by natural selection. Steven is clearly the most brilliant
physicist of our time but in biology; an abject retard.
Just look around. It doesn’t take a sociologist
to see that smart people have fewer children
or none at all. While the poor and uneducated
reproduce bountifully. Here is the twitchy
question of the ancient rain: can we genetically manipulate
our own evolution without falling prey to Übermensch
or combing the strands to find the sequences of eugenics?
I don’t want a master race, simply one that has less
appetite for fear, and fat, and fighting, fucking is complicated.