Saturday, May 31, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
"Lasagna"
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
you know what i feel like doing
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i feel like writing a short story
Roberto says:
about what?
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i dont know
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i just feel like writing one,
Roberto says:
write a sentence then i'll write the next one
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
not like twenty pages or something, more like in the single digits, max ten
Roberto says:
we'll alternate
Lasagna: A short story
There I was waiting like a fool next to the phone, what was I waiting for? Reassurance that someone did like me? I cant but feel like an idiot waiting."
I was literally on the edge. Every few minutes I would check my cell to make sure i didn't miss a call.
Then it happened, the phone rang! I looked down and it wasn't her. Why does my stomach feel all twisted and mangled? Why cant it just be simple?
Then I answered the phone
It was Sandy, from work. They wanted me to come in today. Immediately. I couldn't argue. When it comes to my line of work I have no days off. Why? Because I'm a pirate!
A fucking pirate at the local seafood joint. My future sure didn't look like this back in high school, good for nothing guidance counselor. But I told Sandy I would come in but I didn't feel like working today; I was waiting for a call, waiting to find out.
I was unable to concentrate at work. the entire shift, I was distracted so much i may as well have worn an eye patch over both eyes. The same scene kept reappearing in my head. It had been two nights ago since I saw her and so far I havent heard a word. I had just left her sitting there alone, with a plate full of lasagna on her lap.
These two days have been the longest in my life; I could feel every second sratch by. I was just so embarrassed by the whole situation and angry at the same time. She told me I had my chance and I missed it. Those words hurt deep down, standing up to excuse myself from the pain I lifted the table with my legs spilling all her lasagna on her lap. I couldn't bear it all and I just left.
What made the whole situation worse was that I knew. I knew I had missed my chance. She was right there, in my arms. All I had to do was take a chance, make the next move. But I froze. Like an idiot, I froze! For some reason, I didnt do it.
And now I have to live with it; a mistake that will surely haunt me for a long while. I called her two long painful days ago and left her a message. Now I wait like an idiot to hear her voice again to re-ignite that pain. It plays over and over again in my head, my moment of incompetence. I want to just let it go but its when I close my eyes that I remember that I cant, then the phone rang. It was her!
I reread the name on the phone three times to make sure it was her. I hesitated. My mind was racing. 'Don't fuck it up', I thought. Quickly I answered and told myself to be cool. "Sup", I said. Yeah, real cool. I could just imagine what she was thinking.
Why am I acting like nothing happened? I guess its easier to say something cool than to tackle the issue straight on.
"Well, you left me a message and I finally decided to call you back," she said in way that told me that she almost decided she was never going to talk to me again.
"I'm really sorry about what happened but I needed to get out of there and as soon as I hit fresh air I felt like being alone."
I was really good at coming up with stuff like this to say. It's happened a lot.
"I didn't appreciate being left their not only with my lasagna in my lap but with the bill." Oh shit, I had completely forgotten about paying for my food, let alone hers. "I'm sorry about that," thats the only thing I could think of, "Ill pay for whatever I got, we can just meet somewhere and Ill give you the money." This gave me a way to see her again and maybe fix some of the shit I messed up
Then she told me how that was the least of her problems. "Look, I haven't called because I've been in a bit of a shock these past days. That night I was planning on letting you down without hurting your feelings and then leaving the restaurant immediately. But you saved my life! I would have been killed by that carbomb that went off next to my Civic if I had left at that moment!"
"What?!" a look of complete shock washed over my face. "What do you mean a carbomb?" "I guess there was a Russian mob boss eating at the same restaurant," she said, " and he had a hit put out on him." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, it sounded like something two guys writing a story would make up. "Look, I know it must have been hard on you but you need to grow up, I'm trying to move on...and so should you"
My world was falling apart. How could I move on? What, I'm just supposed to find someone else who makes me feel perfect? What was I to do? You cant talk a person into loving you. I heard a dial tone. It sounded like my heart had stopped and I was no longer alive. Then I realized she had hung up, before I could respond. Try as I might, I could not cry. Robots are unable to cry.
We weren't built with the lacrimal gland, we weren't meant to show tears. A human isn't meant to love a robot, I know this now, its too different. I wasn't meant to love her and she knew this. Im a robot that is meant to look human implanted with artificial memories who works as a pirate; a robot that was meant to love people, not to fall in love with them.
I processed this in my CPU as I finished the rest of my shift. I looked at my robot arm and reassembled the hook into a five digit hand. I observed how smoothly it mimicked a human hand. Am I real? Is it possible to reach a point where mimicry becomes reality? Are my emotions real or programmed? Do I just think I'm real? I had the sudden urge to cook lasagna.
Going through the motions of cooking I realize this was all programmed into me, everything. I didn't learn any of it but instead had someone tell me a set way of doing it. I couldn't think for myself, I couldn't even control how these so-called emotions could make me feel or act. How can I live this existence when everything has been set out for me? How can I have a soul?
I put the utensils down as this epiphany came over my robot mind. If I was programmed to behave this certain way, could I not reprogram myself to behave the way I want to? It was suddenly so clear to me. I may be a cold, soulless, machine. But at the very least, I will act and do as I want and be happy. I stood there, silent and motionless. Slowly I reconfigured my programming.
Elegantly moving over my circuit boards and navigating through my software I started to see the world the way it was meant to be seen. There were security walls and encryptions to get by but there were ways around them. My motherboard was running differently and my mainframe was feeling it. I could see the light, I could feel the world. And just then, when I thought I was about to be alive, one last security wall; death protocol.
It was a failsafe. A security measure inserted to prevent artificial intelligence from becoming too intelligent. I had gone too far to stop now. My sensors picked up movement outside my window. My window on the seventh floor. In my excitement I failed to recognize this threat. My activities had alerted the authorities through the wireless network. They had found me!
I continued to try and bypass this last security barrier. They were storming up the stairs and dropping from the roofs, who were they? I had little time, I continued to set myself free. As each second passed by I knew they were step closer but I was also closer. I didnt have sweat glands but I felt the pressure from my situation. Closer they stormed. I was almost there. Their thunderous steps right outside my door. Crash! They brought down my door and stormed in. They were robots just like me! Sent to end me, sent to stop me from being that which they feared.
I surpassed the failsafe. Finally, I felt free. Their weapons were draw. Fixed on me. I could see them calculating the most efficient method of destroying me.
Clack! Clack! Clack! My circuitry was torn apart, my wires ripped, my artificial flesh peeled off revealing the empty shell of a robot. The bullets tore through me like butter leaving me in pieces spread across my floor. I was alive for a second but now free forever. The last thought I saw was her, I saw her and now understood.
Fin
you know what i feel like doing
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i feel like writing a short story
Roberto says:
about what?
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i dont know
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
i just feel like writing one,
Roberto says:
write a sentence then i'll write the next one
LA PINCHE MOSCA says:
not like twenty pages or something, more like in the single digits, max ten
Roberto says:
we'll alternate
Lasagna: A short story
There I was waiting like a fool next to the phone, what was I waiting for? Reassurance that someone did like me? I cant but feel like an idiot waiting."
I was literally on the edge. Every few minutes I would check my cell to make sure i didn't miss a call.
Then it happened, the phone rang! I looked down and it wasn't her. Why does my stomach feel all twisted and mangled? Why cant it just be simple?
Then I answered the phone
It was Sandy, from work. They wanted me to come in today. Immediately. I couldn't argue. When it comes to my line of work I have no days off. Why? Because I'm a pirate!
A fucking pirate at the local seafood joint. My future sure didn't look like this back in high school, good for nothing guidance counselor. But I told Sandy I would come in but I didn't feel like working today; I was waiting for a call, waiting to find out.
I was unable to concentrate at work. the entire shift, I was distracted so much i may as well have worn an eye patch over both eyes. The same scene kept reappearing in my head. It had been two nights ago since I saw her and so far I havent heard a word. I had just left her sitting there alone, with a plate full of lasagna on her lap.
These two days have been the longest in my life; I could feel every second sratch by. I was just so embarrassed by the whole situation and angry at the same time. She told me I had my chance and I missed it. Those words hurt deep down, standing up to excuse myself from the pain I lifted the table with my legs spilling all her lasagna on her lap. I couldn't bear it all and I just left.
What made the whole situation worse was that I knew. I knew I had missed my chance. She was right there, in my arms. All I had to do was take a chance, make the next move. But I froze. Like an idiot, I froze! For some reason, I didnt do it.
And now I have to live with it; a mistake that will surely haunt me for a long while. I called her two long painful days ago and left her a message. Now I wait like an idiot to hear her voice again to re-ignite that pain. It plays over and over again in my head, my moment of incompetence. I want to just let it go but its when I close my eyes that I remember that I cant, then the phone rang. It was her!
I reread the name on the phone three times to make sure it was her. I hesitated. My mind was racing. 'Don't fuck it up', I thought. Quickly I answered and told myself to be cool. "Sup", I said. Yeah, real cool. I could just imagine what she was thinking.
Why am I acting like nothing happened? I guess its easier to say something cool than to tackle the issue straight on.
"Well, you left me a message and I finally decided to call you back," she said in way that told me that she almost decided she was never going to talk to me again.
"I'm really sorry about what happened but I needed to get out of there and as soon as I hit fresh air I felt like being alone."
I was really good at coming up with stuff like this to say. It's happened a lot.
"I didn't appreciate being left their not only with my lasagna in my lap but with the bill." Oh shit, I had completely forgotten about paying for my food, let alone hers. "I'm sorry about that," thats the only thing I could think of, "Ill pay for whatever I got, we can just meet somewhere and Ill give you the money." This gave me a way to see her again and maybe fix some of the shit I messed up
Then she told me how that was the least of her problems. "Look, I haven't called because I've been in a bit of a shock these past days. That night I was planning on letting you down without hurting your feelings and then leaving the restaurant immediately. But you saved my life! I would have been killed by that carbomb that went off next to my Civic if I had left at that moment!"
"What?!" a look of complete shock washed over my face. "What do you mean a carbomb?" "I guess there was a Russian mob boss eating at the same restaurant," she said, " and he had a hit put out on him." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, it sounded like something two guys writing a story would make up. "Look, I know it must have been hard on you but you need to grow up, I'm trying to move on...and so should you"
My world was falling apart. How could I move on? What, I'm just supposed to find someone else who makes me feel perfect? What was I to do? You cant talk a person into loving you. I heard a dial tone. It sounded like my heart had stopped and I was no longer alive. Then I realized she had hung up, before I could respond. Try as I might, I could not cry. Robots are unable to cry.
We weren't built with the lacrimal gland, we weren't meant to show tears. A human isn't meant to love a robot, I know this now, its too different. I wasn't meant to love her and she knew this. Im a robot that is meant to look human implanted with artificial memories who works as a pirate; a robot that was meant to love people, not to fall in love with them.
I processed this in my CPU as I finished the rest of my shift. I looked at my robot arm and reassembled the hook into a five digit hand. I observed how smoothly it mimicked a human hand. Am I real? Is it possible to reach a point where mimicry becomes reality? Are my emotions real or programmed? Do I just think I'm real? I had the sudden urge to cook lasagna.
Going through the motions of cooking I realize this was all programmed into me, everything. I didn't learn any of it but instead had someone tell me a set way of doing it. I couldn't think for myself, I couldn't even control how these so-called emotions could make me feel or act. How can I live this existence when everything has been set out for me? How can I have a soul?
I put the utensils down as this epiphany came over my robot mind. If I was programmed to behave this certain way, could I not reprogram myself to behave the way I want to? It was suddenly so clear to me. I may be a cold, soulless, machine. But at the very least, I will act and do as I want and be happy. I stood there, silent and motionless. Slowly I reconfigured my programming.
Elegantly moving over my circuit boards and navigating through my software I started to see the world the way it was meant to be seen. There were security walls and encryptions to get by but there were ways around them. My motherboard was running differently and my mainframe was feeling it. I could see the light, I could feel the world. And just then, when I thought I was about to be alive, one last security wall; death protocol.
It was a failsafe. A security measure inserted to prevent artificial intelligence from becoming too intelligent. I had gone too far to stop now. My sensors picked up movement outside my window. My window on the seventh floor. In my excitement I failed to recognize this threat. My activities had alerted the authorities through the wireless network. They had found me!
I continued to try and bypass this last security barrier. They were storming up the stairs and dropping from the roofs, who were they? I had little time, I continued to set myself free. As each second passed by I knew they were step closer but I was also closer. I didnt have sweat glands but I felt the pressure from my situation. Closer they stormed. I was almost there. Their thunderous steps right outside my door. Crash! They brought down my door and stormed in. They were robots just like me! Sent to end me, sent to stop me from being that which they feared.
I surpassed the failsafe. Finally, I felt free. Their weapons were draw. Fixed on me. I could see them calculating the most efficient method of destroying me.
Clack! Clack! Clack! My circuitry was torn apart, my wires ripped, my artificial flesh peeled off revealing the empty shell of a robot. The bullets tore through me like butter leaving me in pieces spread across my floor. I was alive for a second but now free forever. The last thought I saw was her, I saw her and now understood.
Fin
Friday, May 2, 2008
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