Am I Sane?
Am I sane?
I so not know the answer to that question anymore. Once, I would have looked down on anyone stupid enough to ask such a question of me, I was a genius and the mark of genius was one who could walk that fine line between genius and insanity and not fall off.
I think I've fallen off.
How else can she be in my head, the temptress who used me to destroy all that I knew, all that I was and turn me from the arrogant, brilliant fool I was into the emotional scared wreck I am now.
She talks to me, guides me, she could just as much be an expression of my genius, guiding me to answers I already knew but didn't really know how to express to my conscious mind.
But still, I know she is not of me, she is in my head, but she is not meant to be there. How she came to be there, I don't know. She said it was a chip, but any device planted within my mind would have shown up in some way on an MRI. The device is powerful, can be difficult to interpret but it misses nothing.
So, she isn't a device in me.
But she is in my, as much as, not long ago, I used to be inside of her. That was intimate though; this more often then not feels dirty, torrid, perhaps… perhaps like rape. Rape of my mind, my faculties, rape of all that I am, or everything that is uniquely me. The body matters little, it is only a vessel for the mind and it is the mind which places us above the mere beasts of the colonies.
Perhaps I should have said 'placed', past tense. There are few enough animals left now and given food shortages, I don't think they will last long before becoming somebody's meal.
So, she is there, she is in me, raping my mind, but is not a device. If she is not a device, then she lied to me, it would not be the first time.
Perhaps… Perhaps I am a cylon, the false cover personality for the cylon infiltrator. She did her work, used me as her front and now… what?
Why would she continue to torture me when she could just have herself downloaded to a body better suited to her? Why am I continuing to be a pawn? No, I don't think I am a Cylon. I can't be, I must not be.
But, if I have not been programmed to think she is there…
Programmed, of course. You don't need to be a machine to be programmed, humans can be programmed too, its called hypnosis and its classed as a heresy but that would matter little to such beings as the Cylons. The six certainly had access enough to me to skilfully program my mind to there own ends, time enough to make me forget such programming too.
Lords, that would mean that they intended on me surviving. Such raises once again the spectre of being a Cylon, or at least an unknowing tool of theirs. It also means that they expected humans to survive and that they, for whatever reason wanted me amongst them.
Why would they want humans left alive? That makes little sense, well, okay, I know what happened to those females left on the Colonies, but to have a group of survivors fleeing in ships?
They risk us becoming a real threat to them again. They must have a reason for that, a reason I doubt I am going to like.
Still, one question is answered, am I sane?
Almost certainly not, after all, to be sane requires that you be in full control of your mind and my mind it seems is compromised. I have fallen off… no, I have been pushed off that thin line. So be it.
The only question left now, is how do I deal with this? How does am insane man become sane once more in a universe that itself has gone insane?
Note: I do now own nor do I claim ownership of characters and / or concepts within this story.