The First Step

I discovered the external world.

Its nature, its humans, its relations.

Things in between and around.

They taught me that I don’t know how not to slap myself.

They gave me the map of the three slaps cases.

With its help, I recognized how I have been slapping myself.

That map became my compass, and this became my test case:

Nobody other than me can make me move myself.


I reached a place where I am not so fluent in slapping myself anymore.

I managed that by stopping all movement.

First external, then internal.

On the way, I discovered three other worlds.


I lock myself home on the body and its residents sensations.

Nobody other than me moves me there.

I am not moving myself either.

That accomplishes only half of the claim.

Can I move myself too?

I now know the mechanics of the slap.

Can I avoid it even while I move?


I reach here but avoiding the possibility of slapping myself.

That was easy.

Now I try to go back without slapping myself.

That is the real challenge.


I can stop myself.

Can I move myself?

I already move myself into my safe place.

Can I explore these worlds without influence?

Can I learn how to walk by myself?


Thinking space is too dangerous, too unpredictable.

It is a war-zone, not a training ground.


Breathing space is too monotonous.

A resting place, not a training place.


The sensational body seems like a safe bet.

This is the training ground.


I am on a dangerous mountain.

Right now, I am holding onto a spot, and I feel safe.

Am I safe?

I am always under attack.

By wind, rain, cold.

Rocks and stones are falling on me.

How can I move without falling?


I am going to climb.

I must be careful.

It is a matter of life and death.

I move myself to the left side of my nose.

I hold myself there.

I am still there.


I took the first step.

I do not have to lock myself home anymore.

My body is a mountain.

It is a land.

I will not conquer it.

I will learn to walk on it.


I can move across it.

There are sensations everywhere.

Sometimes strong, sometimes gentle.

I am pulled, I am moved by them.

That is okay.

That does not violate my stance.


I am like a character in a computer game.

I get lost, I fall, but I always respawn.

Thinking, breathing, sensations.

None of them can kill me.

None of them can make me disappear forever.

Suicide or murder.

It does not matter.

I always come back.


I am like a baby taking its first step.

I am going to learn how to walk on my body.

Alone.

I am holding the edge of the sofa.


I am moving on my face.

I am on my right cheek.

I am on my right eye.


It takes time.

It takes many trials.

I am reaching the second part:

Nobody moves me.

I can stop myself.

Only I move me.

I can move myself.


I am taking steps toward:

Nobody other than me can move me.

At least in one of the worlds.


I keep respawning.

I am opening my eyes, again.

the first trap