Well, never mind about all babies. What about this one right here? We tried to interview him but he wasn’t taking any questions. So we assembled more empirical data and concluded that babies come from a dark, wet, thermally regulated place where everything is catered and they don’t have to do anything. We agreed to lower our expectations and sat around looking at him doing nothing. Well, maybe "doing nothing" is a little judgmental. The kid is probably wondering, "So I outgrow my space, and go to all the trouble to move, like I’m banging my head on a pole for hours. And now this?" After living quite well, thank you, in a cozy room – babies tend to call it a woom – with a feeding tube, everything was fine, with no job – and now with no warning whatsoever, all this:
light, air (what the hell?), infinite space, strangers, noise, confusion, a lot of herky-jerky handling and poking and wiping for chrissakes. Stuff flying around everywhere and it's all dry. Enough to make everyone crazy. These things that are flying around me. They seem kinda familiar. They flail, they clutch each other. Oh yeah, I remember them from the dark, when they moved more slowly. Maybe they’re attached to me? Oh, hell yes. Those are my hands! Wow! They came with me! I can do a lot more with them now. Watch this!
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