I stare off into space, waiting to be activated.
When I look at what I am thinking - I cannot see anything there. I am quiet, inert. There is nothing there. It is only through my interaction with other people that I am challenged into performance.
I feel like a complicated doll. I am capable of doing some impressive things. At the very least I am capable of some complicated illusion that looks like thought, creativity and action, but only in the presence of stimuli. Only in the presence of other people do I come to life. Until then I sit in my toybox, staring blankly out the window at the green and blue of the world, just being part of it. I am as alive as the soil outside, and as capable of directed action as the trees.
There are people who spend years achieve this level of nothingness, pursuing the empty to put the chaos into perspective. Gosh, I have been one of those people; but for me, right now, this is the just the absence of purpose.
Someone will take me out and play with me for a little while. And I will be alive. I will react as I am programmed, access my substantial databanks, or my capable processing power and spit out answers. I will interact like I am alive, like a doll that is made to react like a baby. But still a doll. The cleverness is not in the doll, it is in the creation of the doll. The me that I used to be created this doll. I think he was clever. The cleverness is not in the doll, it is in the imagination of the person doing the playing.
My window need me to stare though it to perform its function. Its function is to be looked through. Until someone comes to play with me, I exist to perform my function. My function is to be the semi aware being that does the looking.
When I look at what I am thinking - I cannot see anything there. I am quiet, inert. There is nothing there. It is only through my interaction with other people that I am challenged into performance.
I feel like a complicated doll. I am capable of doing some impressive things. At the very least I am capable of some complicated illusion that looks like thought, creativity and action, but only in the presence of stimuli. Only in the presence of other people do I come to life. Until then I sit in my toybox, staring blankly out the window at the green and blue of the world, just being part of it. I am as alive as the soil outside, and as capable of directed action as the trees.
There are people who spend years achieve this level of nothingness, pursuing the empty to put the chaos into perspective. Gosh, I have been one of those people; but for me, right now, this is the just the absence of purpose.
Someone will take me out and play with me for a little while. And I will be alive. I will react as I am programmed, access my substantial databanks, or my capable processing power and spit out answers. I will interact like I am alive, like a doll that is made to react like a baby. But still a doll. The cleverness is not in the doll, it is in the creation of the doll. The me that I used to be created this doll. I think he was clever. The cleverness is not in the doll, it is in the imagination of the person doing the playing.
My window need me to stare though it to perform its function. Its function is to be looked through. Until someone comes to play with me, I exist to perform my function. My function is to be the semi aware being that does the looking.
