Thursday, February 10, 2011

Tonsillitis Right Tonsil



In Memory Metal
have a squeaky arm is not the worst problem for a man of metal. In my life I have encountered several difficulties in adapting to the world.
Our planet, though highly technical, is not the ideal environment for inorganic beings like me.

is always yawn when I'm at work. Do not ask why they scheduled the option yawn to an entity without a heart.
The condemnation of man is the thought and not happy to be the only one at a discount, he passed to us: Metals thinking. When
pass on the street, despite our appearance is similar to a human being, people are known and there with his finger tip. Of my series do not try to cover my synthetic nature.
Many try with all means at their disposal to go unnoticed. I speak not only of artificial skin that change every day, but the things of which they speak. I once heard a metal thinking, sitting in a bar at a table next to mine, trying to make his speech can be more intellectual. He wanted to explain abstract and absurd interpretation of ancient philosophical theorems, demonstrating its experience in the field.
I wanted to get up, go to him and say, "you're just metal." I know that would not be useless. It would probably be shot on the other hand, pretending to not having seen or heard.
I will not hide my essence robotics and artificial. They are the result of several experiments, are not human nor do I want to be.
The arms were uncovered, I try to wear less clothing as possible, I do not feel the cold because I use them? I do not put the muffler on my joints creak, squeak, making noise for me is fine.
not I train in gyms to simulate facial expressions human. Some spend all their savings in private coaches expressive.
not seeking work in offices or in fashion. When they built the aim was to create the beasts of burden, real mules which give the weight of all work disturbing.
I look favorably on those who enroll in art school, thinking that their brain has been made even the synthetic pattern of creativity.
Humans tolerate us because we all have a system installed in the brain off. This little mechanism is nothing but a microbomba that destroys the brain, leaving intact the memory. We can go out, eat, drink or smoke and have sex even among ourselves and with humans. If any of us, however, touches the limit of a button is enough to remove it.
We build as adults, often commissioned by someone. We do our job, then if our owners want to stay alive and become independent.
We are the lucky ones. They have been created after working a year and are issued with a permanent visa. They begin a new life where they have the right to work, a house and a family in a certain limit.
sure why anyone would take a couple of Metals thinking a human child. We are too inexperienced to be able to do such a thing. Our life expectancy is twenty-five years. Children's children are born and die. I am my twenty-third year of age will not be long before the circuit in my spine ends its warranty. When that happens will the jackals of the company and I take it down to reuse the parts. My independence is based on this small chip. Useless to try to change the date engraved on it, any attempt to guarantee access to break-outs, thus shortening my life.
So why try to look stupid that you are not? If you were born an object can not become a man. As I said first humans have dumped upon us their convictions worse: the thought and hard work.
After generations have understood that it was time not to be the only ones to bear the burden of consciousness to exist. Somebody had to take this weight in my hands and drag them over. Metals thinking we are aware of our death, because we know exactly when it arrives. We try to understand things beyond our reach, we are aware that we live well without thinking, but we will not feel excluded. We are afraid that something may happen to our bodies, not fear of pain, but the fear of having to admit to ourselves that we are not a somebody, but a something.
When we make sex with a man we have the fears by providing more than a virgin girl of fifteen, but not the same enthusiasm. We hope that in their wailing they say our name would say that the person they love.
I have loved, or as in the formulas used by us, I think I loved. Involuntarily the logic is crucial for us. Based on the concept of our inhumanity can not say I feel, I know, but I think I feel or think I know.
I said I think I loved. It was a blacks-haired girl, who worked in a bar. He looked at me smiling with only corner of his mouth. Her hair is often covered his face and lips were the only thing I saw.
The third time I went there, contrary to my habit, I asked her name.
"Pat" ...
His name was Pat.
knew the protocol to follow in these situations, clumsily tried to follow him ask her out.
She said she did not want to leave, but go to bed with me.
I thought she was, like many humans, deluded thinking that the metals they were like a blender which you could adjust the power as you wish, to use and put away. I really liked her so I said yes anyway. In the evening I went to his house.
When I entered his apartment I was immediately struck by the volume of the music. The rooms were almost empty and tidy, soft lights and orange.
He sat me on his bed now, not even asked me how I was. I poured a drink in a plastic tapered without saying a word. He kept smiling looking into my eyes, I could not understand what his intentions were. I just knew that I liked more.
Until then when I had no doubt that it was human. It was when he put his cheek against mine who understood its artificial nature.
I still do not explain why it struck me so much that discovery. I just remember that I got up slowly with his eyes stuck on him until I left the room.
one day I wandered to the outskirts of the city in the midst of garbage that would kill a man at the first inhalation. I felt dirty and I wanted to stay in contact with the rubbish and waste one day I would become part of them ...

0 comments:

Post a Comment