"The past was a yawning maw and every waking moment, Miss Songdog was acutely aware of it. Sometimes she sat in her chair for hours, or days, until someone came to disturb her. She sat in a heap, her form held up only by its own rigidity, and stared at nothing, lost completely in her own thoughts. She looked like an forsaken puppet or an obsolete doll. Blank, languid, she did this until she felt like she was drowning and she had to gasp for air. No air ever came.
The bulky digital billboard outside her window changed from time to time, but she stopped looking at it. It didn't mean anything to her. It fell aside like an abstraction, like when an insomniac stared at their digital clock until the numbers changed to letters and changed into alien runes. She didn't pay attention to it anymore."

"What do you think of the cyberbody, Joey?" She rolled her hand, curled her fingers one by one. "It's no match for the real thing. I can't feel anything, Joey. I can't taste. I can't smell. This was top of the line about twenty years back. Here's the good part; I'm much, much harder to kill now..."
~Those Grey Steel Nights, S1E9