Throughout the trek that is reading “I celebrate myself”, its themes kept reminding me of the short story “The Egg” by Andy Weir.

https://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html

Something something “I am the universe and I am everyone and everything, and everyone and everything is me, and consciousness and existence are both plural and ultimately singular, and someday I (and by I, I mean everyone) will reach apotheosis…” I would articulate my thoughts on the connection between these two works more, but I am very tired.

Also… what drugs was Walt Whitman taking in 1855???? I have never read a poem that is simultaneously so horny and so esoteric.