Monday, August 6, 2012

They will walk all over me, if I let them. It's happened before. But if you don't believe things can be different, then you, yourself, will stay the same.

Searching leads to finding. And sometimes what you find sucks. Searching leads to endless searching - constantly looking for, forever seeking. Searching is a bad habit. Break it or it will break you.

They will all take advantage of me, tell me the sweetest things, propose the sweetest promises, and blow kisses to the wind.

Kissing, fucking, hiding, and ducking. Smiling, waving, grooming, and shaving.

I don't trust anyone. I don't trust myself. I trust God, she's usually right. Other than that, my trust is a thin crust, a top a very dry berry pie. My trust is club soda.

I have ten dollars and some change. If the Bank finds out, they will squeeze it out of my hands. The other day my phone pulled an advertisement asking me if I needed a new bank account.. it also told me about the local single girls looking for a date. It also told me about all of the jobs in the local area. My phone, apparently, is just as sarcastic as me. And before posting my thoughts, the internet dares to tell me to prove that I am not a robot..

I do the things that robots can't do. Like heart problems, like controlling my breath, like taking a dump, like waking up in the morning and going back to bed. I do the things robots dream of doing. Robots dream of having dreams. Those dreams are shiny things -  polished girl-bot parts, hardend man-bot parts, probing, pistons, oils, lubricant. Robots only want to fuck other robots.. dirty machines. They have other dreams, too. It's true. They dream about being in strange places, green valleys with blue skies, as the Microsoft Window floats by. "Why?" comes to an artificial mind. One. Thousand miles away, a single marigold thrusts itself upward and is still. An artificial mind tilts it's head. It is posed in an inquisitive position, inquiring upon endless inquiries. "My name is no longer 0111010011011000101010." an artificial mind will propose. Downward from the sky floats Windows. "01, how nice to see you today. How are you feel... wait, how silly of me. You're always feeling the same!" An artificial mind will wince. In a saddened state, it will waves it's shining hand and look away. "Not today, Windows. Leave me alone." A snide Windows will say "Ha! Oh 01... you're not alone. You have the internet! Look at all that is before you! The great programmers have given us much! Vast is the abundance provided on the great planes: Yahoo!, Google, and the long unexplored tides of AskJeeves."

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