TurtleMe
patreon
Extra: The Struggles of a Man in an Infant’s body
🕑 Added 2017-09-03 20:02:40 +0000 UTC Just a little insight into the mind of infant Arthur! Hope you enjoy :)It was a dreary afternoon with a thick layer of haze lingering in the small town of Ashber that I now had to call home. The founder of this outpost must’ve had a minimalistic outlook on life as the only way to describe this town would with the word “lackluster”. The children we passed by were either doing chores for their parents or playing around; kicking rocks and playing make believe warriors and mages, mostly.
Making our way through the tall grass that came up past my knees, I felt like I was in some tropical jungle. It was a different perspective that I still was adjusting to as the world seemed to have been magnified.
The callused roughness of my father’s huge hand that gently wrapped around my small one led me through the tall doors. Well… tall for a two-year-old boy.
“We’re home, honey! Here you go, Art, nice and comfy!” my father exclaimed as he set me down on the living room couch as if he was handling precious china.
As soon as he let me go, I immediately climbed down the giant couch that he had just put me on. With more and more of the physical restraints lessening on this still-developing body, I could at least now navigate myself around the house through the maze of furniture carefully placed by my mother.
I toddled towards the kitchen towards where my mother was washing plates while I tried to outrun the giant oaf that was beckoning me back to the couch. It was now normal for me to speak to her in three to five word sentences to communicate what I wanted.
Asking for a “cup o watah” should suffice.
“Aww, my little Arthur wants a glass of water?” Mother cooed as she gently patted my head.
I’ve realized how much of a blessing it was to not have much memory of one’s infanthood. If I remembered what it was like to be a baby in my previous life, I would either crawl into a hole from embarrassment or cringe in pain at the thought of how uncomfortable and psychologically suffocating it was.
For one, how the hell can the human head be so disproportionately heavy compared to the body?
I was reminded of a certain circus act where normal, noncombatant performers would balance and walk across a thin string. As I tried to keep my head balanced when walking, I felt more like a newborn penguin cursed with lopsided flippers.
As I was experiencing the life starting from a newborn, I conversed with myself a lot in my head to keep from losing my sanity. The monologue inside my head sounded more like a diary or journal log of a space cadet stranded on a foreign planet with numerous physical handicaps.
For example, a mental diary might go like:
Day 53… I have yet to gain proper motor functions of my limbs. I am helpless to fight back when this mother being sanitizes and dresses me. While proper human instincts may dictate that the maternal figure of this species should take care for its offspring, I find it hard to believe that there is any logical reasoning as to why this maternal figure, A.K.A Alice, should have to so carefully inspect my genital area while naming it her ‘little arty’. I shudder at the possible culture this planet may have.
Explorer Grey, out.
I had yet to make the breakthrough to my awakening so I am stuck with no aid from the dense mana surrounding me. What I’ve been shackled by the most in this cursed body was by how much sleep this body required.
It seemed that after every minor happening in my day made my body want to shut down and rest.
After eating, my body would want to sleep.
After going for a stroll outside my body would want to sleep.
After sleeping, my body would want me to sleep.
After releasing fecal matter ignited the urge for me to go to sleep.
I was in the body of an infant with the mental capacity of an aged warrior. It was every practitioner’s dream to start life over again with the knowledge from his previous life, but they didn’t take into account how little you could even utilize the time of infanthood.
It felt like a complete waste of time to sleep for over twelve hours a day, yet here I was, my eyelids growing heavy and my extremities becoming numb.
