Nothing Doing

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I don’t hallucinate at any point during my float, although I do become acutely aware that I am a product of many eons of the evolutionary process of cephalization. Having lost any sense of my position in the room, or any sense of the room at all, the limits of my body are the borders of my spatial sense. The seat of my perceptions feels grossly off-center from the rest of me, my body basically one branching tendril grown out of my head, like the upward-sprouting growth from a spud stuck in the dirt. It feels extraneous like that, tacked-on a slimy afterthoughts. Not to be cowering in the attic of my body, but to have an evenly distributed neural apparatus, like a starfish, or a sea cucumber, is a balance I’ll never know.

Read all of Samuel Aber’s experience at the Yale Daily News.

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