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When I was four, one afternoon I touched my own arm. I realized that when I touched my arm, I could feel both the sensation of my arm under my fingers, and the sensation of the fingers touching my arm. But when someone else touched my arm, I only felt their hand touching my arm. I could feel what my arm felt, but not what their fingers felt. This made me think of all the sensations I couldn't have, because I wasn't other people--not situated inside of their bodies, but only mine. I envisioned the street outside my day care full of people whose sensations I wasn't having. I wanted to be all of them at once. I wondered why I couldn't be, and why I was the one that I was.

It was a busy afternoon.
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apolliana

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