Pile

sketchfab

I Am a Human Being, But My Life Is Not My Own. I wake up every morning with the sound of machines humming in my ears. The city outside is alive, but I am not. I go through the motions, trying to remember who I was before this all began. My memories are fragmented and unclear, like pieces of a puzzle that refuse to fit together. I try to recall my past, but it's as if someone has taken a razor to my mind and erased everything. I look in the mirror and see a stranger staring back at me. My eyes are empty, my smile fake. I feel like a robot, a machine designed to serve a purpose I don't understand. My days blend together in a blur of routine and monotony. I go through the motions, trying to find meaning in a life that seems devoid of it. But every now and then, something sparks inside me. A glimmer of hope, a spark of rebellion. It's hard to explain, but sometimes I feel like there's more to me than what I see on the surface. Like there's a fire burning deep within me, waiting to be unleashed. I don't know who I am or where I came from. But I do know one thing - I'm not just a human being, I'm a work in progress.