Me, Myself, and I (cont.)Mature

The occurrence of Myself slipping into a euphoric comatose had an impact that I could not predict. Two major changes took place.

The first was that Me found the opportunity to escape the prison of the brain, which did not please I in the least. We are all familiar with Me's attraction to the barbaric and lewd, so it can be imagined that I had a rather difficult time adjusting to this.

I was distracted by the daydreams of Myself, but disturbed by the fantasies of Me. Compared to the countenance of Myself (though at the time heavily tranquilized), I felt that the presence of an angel was replaced by that of a demon. I was tormented by the vast knowledge that I had accumulated; Me twisted the thoughts of I, and poisoned the wisdom of the mind.

I wanted to know anatomy, Me suggested the female physique; in all of it's divine entirety. I longed to apply physics, and Me supported the venture, so long as the first energy to be studied was friction. Me had the idea of combining the two sciences, and learning twice as much in half the time, hoping to appeal to I's logic.

The desire for intriguing conversation burned like never before, but all Me could speak of was touch and position. I had begun to think that Myself was right. "Now I can see what separates I from Myself, and especially Me. Intelligence can be found in animals and in I. The desire to preserve and spread genetics can be found in animals and Me, but who can speak the universal language of love more fluently than Myself?"

The second major change was that, in spite of the freedom to bury the nose in the book, I felt very lonely. It should be mentioned that I cannot say all poetry is terrible, and I missed the incessant babbling of Myself, even if the topic of romance was discussed; at least there is knowledge to be gained by Myself, or so thought I.

You may be asking, "how does this all end?" I and Myself are getting to that part, but you're right, it is best to wrap this up so that I or Myself do not keep you. (Me is busy during all of this, doing what Me does best, so please don't mind Me).

I had to do something. I was getting desperate for interaction, yet Me was too much to tolerate, from a logical standpoint. I attempted to take away My's drugs, but it was too late. I caused Myself to become addicted, and there was no immediate solution to such a commonplace problem.

The End

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