Hello. This question is incomplete. The full question is:
Imagine that your name and identity have been taken away by the
government and replaced with a number. You are removed from your home and family and assigned a mindless job. You are told that you can only interact with those who share your job, and you are instructed to give up all the things you love that make you unique.
Journal #1: It has been a week since your identity was removed. What do you miss most about your old life and self? How is your new life different?
Answer:
Since my identity was removed, I miss contact with people who love and care for me and I care for them, like my family and friends. What I wanted most at the moment is to know how they are, if they are happy, if they are in need, among other things.
I also miss my individuality, not as much as I miss my family, but individuality allows me to feel like a real being, who has ambitions, desires, who makes plans, things that I no longer own. I miss being a unique and singular human being to have a role that was mine and that made me special.
Currently, my life is an empty grid, if I have no motivation, if I have no people to care about and and I have no goals, I have nothing that makes me consistent. I wonder if I'm really real, or just a specter wandering in limbo.
