Thoughts.

Story of the Computer

I was programmed by society a few years back, reprogrammed by certain people I've come across and hacked by a virus who changed my software to adapt to the other viruses that would try to get in one way or another. I'm a technological device, living in a technological era, and ruled by mechanical operations of the every day society. Emotion was something the virus had tried to destroy, like all the other useless files in my system, and it didn't succeed. Perhaps it had the file molded and coded in a different way, so I could adapt and couldn't shut down like I had a few times before when it was active. I am ruled by a wild flock of electronic cycles infiltrating my system, and somehow, sadly, I am used to them. The moment a part of my system develops a tumorous file of emotion, the cycle shuts it down and reprograms the motherboard to change its functions overnight. It's almost pitiful, because I really do think about the fate of my system which is nearly immune to anything and affected by everything. I can never be stable. I can never be unstable. And then you come and do something. You pressed something. And I loathe reprogramming all over again but I'm so used to it that it doesn't even require me to think anymore. It's more of a feeling that -

Click.

Restart.

Program loading...

I think I am a computer; at least that is what they believe I am. I don't know anything about computing or how computers even work. All I know is that I have inhuman properties. I don't make grammatical errors and I have robot speech. I download google speech a long time ago. It proves to be useless so I simply stick to text. And when something electronically unnatural flows through the circuits, my programs freeze as if someone had spilled soda over the keyboard and I'm stuck in one place. It's either that or I explode and shut down. Repairs are expensive and my owners don't have a lot of money. Sometimes it takes me weeks to restart, but these are heavy damages. I usually fix my system by deleting files over and over again until nothing remains - simply a cold device or a heated system. There is no balance within me. The environment also affects me greatly. I abhore the sun and would rather it diminish over an hour. I despise anything natural and I crave the synthetic. I also rather hate the synthetic. I hate myself.

I loathe the fact that my users force me to restart every single time they get upset with my functions and the fact that they are using me as a device and not some boasting laptop that came out last month. They like controlling what I do from time to time but little do they know I'm secretely coding a self-destruct program in the back of my software. Only the best of hackers could find it. My users are mostly imbeciles. Imbeciles control me.

But times come and I become human for a second and when I do, I don't know how to act (at least that's what they tell me), and when I do, my files begin chipping away so that this thing replaces them. This extraordinary thing. This sensation. I have a savior that I believe is you. I don't even know who you are though. Not really. I also pretty much loathe you because you will damage this new body of mine. You are so accustomed to understanding this thing, this emotion, that I really have no choice but to relent at certain times when you're being just a little bit too friendly. Even computers are egoistic, though. I thought you'd be clever enough to figure that out. I want to destruct. I am a misanthrope by definition. I loathe you. Yes. I loathe everybody and everything. My feelings only respresent the -

Click.

Restart.

Program loading...

Another thing bewitches me, quite frankly, and it's the fact that damages exist within my hardware. I get fixed quite often. I'm a wreck. They get the circuit boards for ten bucks down Abby's Lane, over there next to Princeton Road 143. I don't understand why they keep taking me to get fixed. It's pretty expensive, like I said, and my damages are eternal scars over my old plastic boxes and bridges. Sometimes I wish I had a different IP adress and was connected to a system of computers similar to me - you know, perhaps a spinal system of connections. I'd even go for a star. It kind of makes me sick when they try attaching me to things with no connection, or barely any connection. Like wifi or infrared signals. They call them hotspots or something. Yeah. You like connecting me to that as well. Why can't you understand I'm simply going to shut down after a while? I try to reach the connections but I'm an old-fashioned device. I literally can't be understood or connected by these new programmers such as yourself. Perhaps you could give up? Maybe I wouldn't abhore you as much then. Why do you have the need to connect me to anything so that you could simply fling me across the room with all your other garbage because I can't work? That's immature. That's mean. And after everything, I begin transforming again and I lay across the room, an injured girl I assume, holding a trifle and staring at the flinger with unrecognizable sensation. That only lasts a split moment before I start to feel this -

Click.

Restart.

Program loading...

1011100101000101010111010101101110101110110101110101101110000101011010110011010010001...

Force shut down.