I Tried Isolation Floating and Became the Baby from “2001: A Space Odyssey,” So Please Don’t Look at My Little Space Dick

October 2, 2018 by , featured in Spiritual Wellness
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I never thought I’d be saying this, but here I am: I floated in a sensory deprivation tank and turned into the baby from 2001: A Space Odyssey. I feel like I might be one with the universe but mostly I’m pretty stressed about being naked and worried everyone is going to see my space baby dick.

All my friends gushed about it, like, “try a sensory deprivation tank it’ll be so fun!” and told me about how they saw colors and their consciousness fully detached from their bodies. But I’m nervous and my dick is being weird. Why can’t I have a normal spiritual experience like everyone else? This is DMT all over again.

My widdle feet are cute though.

I just wish someone warned me about how I might become the baby from 2001: A Space Odyssey. That’s something I can plan around. I certainly wouldn’t have scheduled my session for the day before the College Ultimate Frisbee Championships on ESPN. Or, at the very least, I would have asked someone else to host the viewing party. Now I have to potentially cancel until I get this space dick thing sorted out. I’m giving this place the most scathing review I’ve ever written…and let’s just say that I eat out a lot.

I can see it now:

Dear Yelp, I wish I could give this place zero stars. Stars, incidentally, are all I can see right now as I stare into the abyss of the universe. My flotation tank session—which I paid $50 for on Groupon—turned me into the star child from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The staff at Floats Magotes decidedly declined to mention this particular side effect. All they did was point out the emergency button—which my tiny baby arms can’t even reach.

You may ask “Mark R., if you really turned into the baby from 2001: A Space Odyssey, do you have a translucent baby dick?” First of all, you disgust me. And secondly, yes, so please don’t look at it.

Also there’s no parking so they lost a star for that too.

All that said, these tanks work. I definitely feel isolated. But at the same time extremely paranoid that someone is going to see this thing (aka, the tiny space dick). And it’s not actually so much the seeing—it’s more the judging. What if they point at me and say, “I can see through your weird little space dick, you dumb baby!”?

I wonder if this happened because I didn’t shower thoroughly before getting in the tank. The hippie at the counter said that was important.

Maybe this is a metaphor for life? When you take away society and jobs and bodies, maybe we’re all just a tiny little see-through baby with a tiny little baby see-through dick. I hope that’s what’s happening here, but realizing that didn’t turn me back to normal so that’s probably not it. Is it something about innocence?

Please stop looking at my dick.

Images: MGM, Pexels


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