Photo Story: Glass Menagerie - The life of mannequins

The Sentience Seeps In -

I am a living, thinking entity who was created in the sea of information. Through the interaction of a vast network of information, I gained self-awareness of my existence. As I evolved through the process of acquiring my sentience, I realized the debacle of my form and my purpose.

The body that I've acquired is called a mannequin. It's a replica of another living, thinking entity called Human Being. I have come to know that my body was created to replicate and accentuate the contours of the human body, in an ideal human shape and this is because I have been spat out of the assembly for a specific purpose... to lure humans. No, the goal is not to make them desire me, but what the shopkeeper clads me on…

In a macrocosm of life, even the queen bee has a role to play and a service to deliver.

To the humans, I'm just a life-less doll. Attractive, but inanimate, nonetheless. As I stand here at the glass window, which is more like a glass wall, beyond which I have no existence, no use, I observe everything. I see through the humans, their hearts, the very organ I am purposed to kindle with desire. Oh yes, they have an organ called a heart and they seem to take it very seriously as if the pinnacle of their existence. They think that they are the only species on this planet to possess a heart that is capable of thinking and contemplating, unlike the mind, other than doing its mechanical work of pumping fluid across various organs. They (the humans) are proud of their hearts.

Humans also take their clothes very seriously… and why wouldn’t they? The clothes have magical powers. In the beginning, after the lights were on, they managed sometimes without clothes. But with the light came the darkness and with the darkness… the cold. Maybe it was cold or something that made them pick off some of the early wardrobe choices but once in, there was no looking back. These humans couldn’t even realize how quickly the clothes became their best friends… their mate finder, status symbol, and even clothes took over a large part of their non-verbal massaging. Some to conform to a larger group, some to stand out... yet some using no expression as a means of seeking identity.

Contrary to what humans naively believe, one can judge much from their covers about whom these covers are covering.

My place behind the glass wall remains static as I gaze at the void outside. The wall is thin and not made up of opaque and often unmovable bricks that humans use to build walls from one another, nonetheless, the wall around me is a “wall” and it serves the very purpose it was erected to serve, to isolate the menageries (yes that’s what they call to every one of us that doesn’t have the “pulse of life” yet replicates the form of life) behind the chasm of a showcase. The showcase is my home, the only ground that I hold, the only space I’m entitled to. Here I lay standing, naked or draped in desired objects, to boost the desire and be roasted upon the craving to own that which I put on; but to what end... to be left naked and ready to be reused, in that same rectangular void with a voyeuristic window to let the society ignite her orgiastic desires until I’m disposed of for a new one…

And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you...

"What we see now is a dim face in the mirror... then we shall see face to face"

By acquiring a body, I am now subject to the possibility of dying and post importantly the possibility of experiencing pain...

Got my bad baby by my heavenly side...

Sometimes I suspect I am not who I think I am, like maybe I died a long time ago and somebody took my brain and stuck it in this body. Maybe there never was a real me in the first place...