Thoughts.
Hours.
Days.
Months.
Years now I've spent on this
thing. Bits of data. Lines of code upon lines of code. The time slips away very quickly. Yet I don't seem to have much to show. Maybe that's why I'm obsessed with
productivity.
I'm here... In this cold computer world I've helped to
build. I spend days looking at the
artificial... that which is made by
hands before mine, the godfathers of code, as I shall be one day. I look at nothing but this mound of
human thought brought into
being, and with something so totally
human, it is at the same time so cold, and
uninviting. The sharpened perfection of it all. The standards held high to make our tools more precise and more intelligent. It's an edge we
balance on.
I miss her. She's
hours away now. We used to share the same
bed, the same
thoughts, the same
embrace at night. We are still
together in spirit, but I'm wrenched apart from her once more. She made this world have a
heart; she gave it a
soul. She gives me a reason to explore this cold cave of
intellect every day.
To spend these fleeting minutes knowing that there is
humanity somewhere in my
life. To know that the same human hug from her smiling person can make all the cares fall apart. The same
simple act that has warmed mankind for centuries still has it's
wonder. To remember what it was like to sleep soundly feeling her nestled safely in my
arms. The quiet rise and fall of her breast; the gentle beating of a soothed heart. Knowing that I was her contentment was contenting in itself. To know that it is
gone for now, and a part of my
humanity on
hiatus, until I can get that back.
People just aren't the same. I see what it does to people in my
profession. Those who don't find someone are
warped,
changed... It's hard to
describe. I see them driven by a
cold,
cruel sense of
purpose. Their machine becomes their contact... their soruce of warmth, and they never quite find their soul apart from the cycles they spin.
I don't want to become that
person. Not
again.
Never again. I drive my life, my day, and my
ambition around that. To be able to tackle the world seems more
managable, more
appealing, more full, if I could feel that
comfort surround me, even for half an
hour. It gives my life more
meaning...
just to have some human contact.