5 It is... thinking

'It hurts...'

'what is.. going on..'

They start to feel compressed by something, No matter how hard they struggle, They cant move. It feels as if They're being incased in a stretchy substance that perfectly fits their form. They can't move, They can't breathe, see, smell, talk, taste, the only sense they can feel is touch. With that only comes tightness. They feel weird, They don't know what to think. After a bit They try wriggling again.

'This.. will I ever be able to get out of this?'

They stop trying to wriggle around, still feeling stuffy but not to the point where it hurts. A couple of seconds go by when They start thinking again.

'Who.. am I?'

'...What.. am I?'

'I? I'm.. thinking.. how do I know what "think" means? Have I always been thinking?'

Even though Their thinking processes are very slow, it is the only thing They can do other than try to wriggle around. Eventually, They get to form longer strings of thought.

'So I know I exist because I can think. I feel trapped.. does that mean that I wasn't before? How do I know the concept of seeing? breathing? Am I the only thing that exists? Do others like me.. exist? If they do.. are they thinking the same things as me? What is the purpose of thinking? Do I need it to solve problems? Do I need it to exist? Is it to answer philosophical questions and ponder about life? Is it-'

All of a sudden They felt the tightness dissipate and a wormhole-like appendage opened up by his feet. All of a sudden, They fell pulled into it. Before They could relish into the cacophony senses that were blasting at Them, They heard an earpiercing tune. They didn't know what it was. It wouldn't matter if They could comprehend it in the first place, as They lost conciousness the second They heard it. "Greg! Your sleeping bag gained conciousness again!"

"Again? It's been the third time this week! We really need to get a refund."