She came out with those boots and the legs bolted on to the Old Gold cigarette pack
Thought she was mine but she was P. Lorillard's, getting him all hard
Leaving me here to deal with my Cotard delusions
should have been on guard
charge it to my card

There are days remembering escapades when it seems my former self was neither core, external, remembering or the experiencing self - just the pathetic me. Not quite grounds for commitment but still cause for amazement that the self goes through these radical changes. And here I am. Got here the conventional method, as in not teleported. They think they're going to scan you right down to the cells in your sperm, vaporize you, transmit your blueprint to another place and remake you with a 3D printer. I'm surprised that the number #1 requested option is not to have the remake come out with a larger penis. // digression. Which brings me to my point - glad I'm where I am, with whom I do life and if I must be teleported in my remaining mortal life, please foward these words to the teleporter "Make sure there's no fly in there with me".