Meatsuit – PART I


Congratulatory accolades are the order of the hour. Multitudes of loved ones are joyous about your arrival.

Those two (or three or whatever kinky shit your creators were into at the time) spent a climatic, orgasmic session of pleasure manufacturing you. Then, your constructors – they get a big ‘ol handshake or hug to express how ecstatic everyone else is that this toothless infant is here now.

Bundle of joy, they call you.

Hmmm 🤨

Welcome to your meatsuit, little one.

I sure asf hope you’re ready for the ‘time of your life’

There you are, struggling to navigate this suit you’re dressed in. Your limbs jerk involuntarily, nobody understands you because of your finite or rather non-existent diction and verbal communication skills.

You make sounds with your mouth, but your care givers have no fucking idea what you want.

Century old practices are repeated, they assume that you’re famished, so they stick a boob in your mouth so you can enjoy a whitish-milky liquid from another meatsuit.

What do you know, it works!

You’re no longer making those piercing sounds, all seems well. Seems you were just hangry.

This continues for a few more months, you now learn to navigate your meatsuit more effectively.

You can sit on the rear, rounded part of your meatsuit.

The median of your limbs bend a little and you figure out that by slapping your palms down while moving that leg median (knee caps aren’t developed at this stage, so it’s just a part of the suit for now) helps you propel in a forward motion to mobilise you. They call this crawling.

Fun, isn’t it?

During this period, all you’re doing is blabbing and cooing while doing these silly motions, in return you get applause and encouragement!

Yay, right?

Now the suit teaches you balance, you now use the bottom part of your suit that has a couple of phalanges attached to it – little do you know that this part of your suit will be sooooo important later in life, that you can post those toes online and- – – wait, let’s not go there yet, stay with me!

So you’re walking! These wobbly steps are recorded. Date and time stamps using various electronic devices are used to commemorate this auspicious occurrence.

Your babbles and spit bubbles have now turned into phrases that other meat suits can now identify with. You’re now somewhat of a verbal communicator. You use your upper limbs and the little phalanges attached to them to make gestures. You point things out and you’re able to better articulate what it is that you want and need.

This seems to be getting better hey 😌

Your caregivers experiment more frequently with you now. They figure out what it is that your meatsuit enjoys. They shove an array of plant-based, animal pieces, chemically induced substances into the front upper-part of suit that presumably has teeth now.

Your facial expression is indicative of how you feel about these food items. Your carer makes a routine out of it and Bob’s your uncle.

I wonder if phrases like this can still be used in 2023. Bob’s your *insert non-offensive gender here* – again, I’m veering off topic. We’ll get to this absurdity in another journal.

So – you eat well

Sleep well

Shit well

You’re comfortable in your meatsuit now. Your movements are less static, you flow easier and you’re learning what’s harmful to your suit. Obviously with the help of your carer.

They illustrate that by engaging in certain activities, your actions may be hazardous to your suit. You don’t really understand and you wish to see and feel for yourself.

You often test fate by grabbing inappropriate objects. You’re rickety and unstable in the limbs for the most part and cause temporary damage to your suit.

Nowadays, care-givers are super attentive. Well, most of them. They proof your dwelling and make it super cushy so your suit damage isn’t permanent. For those who don’t understand metaphoric speech, they cover electric sockets so the little phalanges don’t get inserted and create a char-grilled meat suit.


We’re All No One ‘Til Someone Thinks That We’re Someone

I see you, sitting there – shaking your head in dispute, most likely frowning
You’re conditioned to believe in the toxic positivity traits you’ve been taught.
"You shouldn't rely on anyone else to bring happiness into your life"; "you should only depend on yourself for happiness", blah- blah – blah

Let’s dissect my earlier statement

As much as we’ve been programmed to believe that happiness is an inside job and we shouldn’t seek it externally – I’d like you to just hear me out


Imagine this: You’ve worked on a project for a lengthy duration, what seemed like an eternity. You’ve dedicated your life to excelling in this said project. Let’s take it a step further and personalize this chronical even more.
You’re an employee at this great company, you absolutely love what you do and you always dominate what’s been set out in your job specifications. You're an overachiever *Author giggles*
You’re given a project to complete, after copious amounts of man/woman/genderfluid-hours, you finish it.
The company is soooo pleased with you, you’re given a promotion!!!!!!


This calls for celebration, right?

You wouldn’t necessarily celebrate in solitude, would you?

So you go home, by yourself, pop a bottle of champagne all by your lonesome – self. Nobody there to shriek in fear (there’s always that one who is petrified of the popping sound of a cork exiting a carbonated drink-filled bottle)
Back to what I was saying –
Woopty-Doo – you have a companionless sippy-sippy and that’s that!


You go home and present your family/house-mates with the delightful news.
This time you’re pouring a crisp, bubbly solvent into multiple long-stemmed glasses.
There’s a room filled to capacity with siblings; school friends from yesteryear; your folks; colleagues who’ve become your besties; your French Poodle and Goldi your pet fish – who just happens to be swimming to and fro in the artificial reef that you’ve set up in your living room area.
You lift your glass and lock eyes with gleaming faces – everyone cheerful and elated to be part of this moment.
You thank everyone for their patience as you were unable to attend events because you were so super consumed in your project.
After you deliver a mini speech, you’re applauded, hugged and endeared. The nearly deafening sound of clinking champagne glasses passes through the entire room.

How breathtaking was that scene?

In that moment, you realize that…

You are someone!
You are a sibling;
You are an offspring;
You are a master (to your dog and fish, that is)
You’re someone’s bestie
You’re someone’s confidant

You’re all those things because SOMEONE thinks that you’re someone

So, yes indeed –

We’re all no one ’til someone thinks that we’re someone

Square Peg, Round Hole

You may be criticized for your way of thinking

Never… EVER shrink your state of consciousness to fit into the lives of those who are not on your frequency
Vibrate with those who celebrate you
Surround yourself with like-minded folk who don’t presume that you’re crazy

Accept that you’re a misfit in today’s mainstream existence
Embody your true and authentic self
Be unapologetically you by displaying your true colors to the absolute maximum

Where do I belong?

Do you ever feel as if you don’t belong?
As if you’re constantly misunderstood!
Like nobody really gets you?

Get in line, we all feel this way!

Laughs hysterically

I’m totally kidding. On a serious note though, this existence often gets us in our feels. We’re always encouraged to ‘reach out’ when we’re going through the motions.
Don’t you feel as if most people are programmed to give us standardized responses?
Things like: “things will get better” or “this is only a phase” and my all time favorite – “don’t think about it too much”
No shit! If I could just turn off my feels for a bit, I definitely wouldn’t think about it too much!
We’re all gathered here on this galactic floating ball, non-consensually (that’s open to interpretation, obviously – just like everything else). Wait, where was I?
Oh yes, trying our utmost best to belong and be present.

I think that one of the most isolating feelings in the world is, having all these thoughts, but nobody to rapidly nod in agreeance.
You’re welcome – by the way.
I get you. I get it.
I don’t have the answers either, I just have a cushion of comfort to offer you. A buffer to let you know that it is completely okay to feel as though you're from an alternate galaxy. In fact, most of us feel this way, we just don’t have a trusted source to have the conversation with.

This Is Where You Belong

Now that we’ve found each other, stay close.
We’ll be unpacking and exploring tools and mechanisms to aid each other, to help us get by and make the best of our experience here.
Stay tuned for scenes from our next episode…