Birth was a painful affair protracted by the strange sensation of having already experienced it. He/She/It/They/Them stood as they had millions of times before, his body taking to the cold marble with a kind of purpose she had never before felt. 

It cruised through hallways, a silent stalker searching for that which their minds had left in the before, coming to the fore, those before four. 

I feel you, she thought to itself. You’re taking up too much space, he cried to her. Quiet, the both of you, they snapped. 


He. No.

She! No.

They. No.

It. It. It.


It moved, turning twelve times, four/one iceberg(s) pushing and pulling legs and arms as one. Step, step, s- step, step, step. 

Step-step-steps lead to the antechamber in which every step becomes a step-step-step-stepstepstep pushing the iceberg higher and higher and higher until realization hits it like the sun and it melts away.

The before four, standing at the fore, step forward, see the four. She, He, They, Them. Four id split, the iceberg breaks. There are four. There were always four. The he, the she, the they, the three that were four, they stood in the it watching their icebergs drift apart.

Screaming, anger, frustrated, AGH. Id. Shut it. Shut id. STOP. STOP ID. The id.

Slow down, you’re too loud. Quiet. Be better. Be super. The super.

Calm, please. Cold, please. Think, think hard, think cold. Ignore the ego. Indulge the ego. The ego.

Id super ego sat melting in the water four times, three for each one of the four, punching each other so that the ice would shatter and the it would be empty of the three and the fourth could remain with its id super ego and rule the white world that was empty of the before three that were once four. 

Id would scream and super would say, be quiet, and ego would say, let’s compromise, four times they yelled inside of the white it.

Leave me alone.

No, leave me!

You’re taking up too much space!

You’ve already said that. Say something else.

Let’s try again.

Libido comes in, slow flow through the four, come together, be one. The icebergs drift backwards into the non-drift, becoming equal and unseparate. 

There were always four, but they were always parts of one. The iceberg was the it and they were the bottom and the side and the tip and the water, the id super ego libido that tied the it together. The id screams and the super quiets and the ego colds and the libido flows, anger to silence to freezing to melting, turning the it away from itness and into something else. Personhood, courtesy of the four.

Personhood, courtesy of the freudian four.

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