Reading other blogs usually make me think.

Or feel. Which I don't like.

Yes, I want to be a fricking cyborg.

It's so much better. You don't have to worry about things that penetrate and spike, you don't have to worry about being human, living up to expectations because a cyborg is mechanical and can have the processor someone will invent in a thousand years, and can type at the speed of light and ace all exams because of some terabytes worth of hard disk drives. And the RAM will be adjusted to be somewhat like a human being's but still slightly different so that it's faster.

And so what if they can't feel? It's mostly the bad things that they're missing out on anyway.

And you know it's always human emotions that complicate equations and cause the equilibrium of everything to be disturbed. Without emotions, everything would be wonderfully clinical. Nothing to distract you, nothing to think about except whatever task you set for yourself, perfect self-control, no overwhelming carnal desires, no always wondering what will happen next because everything's covered already and you know exactly what will happen next, and then you know you have a chance at it, as much as everyone else, because they're no smarter or faster or prettier or slimmer or better in character or in shape or size or handwriting or typing or anything, because you already have everything done and memorized down pat, and you don't have to console yourself about something because you always know that you've gotten one hundred percent correct. Forget about agonizingly memorizing and not understanding any kind of weird concepts in math or science or the art of writing lit or bio essays or trying to calculate some formula in chemistry that you can barely remember. No more pain at someone's death, no more unfortunate incidents from some tactless but well fomulated argument, no more imperfection...



A cyborg is perfect. It is beautiful -- the very work of art that man has created, in its own image but not quite there, with amplified and personified and all manners of things, upgraded and perfected and cleaned up and tidied and all polished...



It is beautiful, devoid of any such confounding and conundrum-like emotions and feelings to come and ruin the flawless creation...


Shut up, shut up, I want that silence. Close your mouth. Pull your jaw. Shut up. Silence. 安静. Schweigen. 沈黙. 침묵.


No, I can't pronounce everything.


Devoid, empty. The best way...?