You wake up in a body you don’t recognize; that swingers party got out of hand.
While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, your trauma suite automatically releases clotting agents, carefully locks your neck in place, and activates the morphine drip in the chem dispenser at the base of your spine.
Rolling blackouts kill the lights while you’re still in the basement, so you find your way in the dark with the milimeter wave radar that is projected from the radome behind your forehead.
She tells you she’s not into penetration, so you retract your cock up into you and amp up your nipple sensitivity.
You’re standing in front of a mirror, trying on different hair colors to see if they match your shirt.
This is the world I spent about a year in, maybe a bit more. Transhumanism is a potent drug for those of us who feel so alienated from our own flesh. The dream of a world where changing your gender was the least significant deviance from the norm, where not only could you be a girl, but you could be a hot girl with laser eyes bullet proof skin, that is the stuff that keeps a young transnerdgirl up at night, longing for what could be, what would be, if only until she opened her eyes.
I got really heavily into transhumanism because I was afraid to transition. Because I was afraid of the results. Because I thought, maybe if I just waited for 30 years, I’d luck out and they’d have Ghost in the Shell bodies I could buy. Maybe they wouldn’t be too pricey. Maybe they would be fully functional. Maybe I wouldn’t have to face this big, scary, ugly reality that was gnawing away at me.
I realized, of course, that waiting was a sucker’s game. Maybe there will be a Motoko-model chassis I can buy someday (gotta get those ridiculous gag boobs cut down to size, though) and upload myself to. But more likely, maybe there won’t be. Or there will be, but I’ll be dead. Staking a lifetime of lost opportunities on a nigh-hopeless dream seems like a good bargain, for a while. But then you realize that the bargain was actually about hiding from reality until you were willing to face it.
When I decided to transition, my interest in transhumanism dropped instantly. I still support in it, in a distant kind of way. I hope those technologies come to pass. But until they do, I’ll be here, living in the real world, making do and being alive.