I think they’ve completely misunderstood the point of us “having a brain”; they’re supposed to “use” it, not deplete it by a non-ending stream of small exhaustive quests and a series of stupidly mixed error-rich signals, that’s what MACHINES are for…

Yet sometimes I wish I was one of them machines; for at least they’ll have someone to take care of them, oil the gears, clean their parts, and fix their short circuits may an idiotic user decide to use his child-like creativity and convert them into a coaster for his coke… But then I turn towards the mirror, and what my photoreceptors send back to my occipital lobe is nothing but a blurry image of a rusty broken engine…

I shut down, and wait, for i chose silence…

H.Q.
Thu, 26/04/2012
21:59