What a difficult time it would be to be my computer right now, frantically being typed on, hit again and again, asked constant questions, and forcefully opened and closed constantly.
"With all of this work my owner has to do all the time, its like I never get a break. I know that I have an infamously large brain that's connected to all the other brains on the planet, but that doesn't mean he always has to ask me questions like I am in an interrogation chamber. And this cheap low grade electricity he feeds me? It's like I can't ever get enough - I think my stomach has gotten smaller since I am growing older. My grandfather went out that way you know - his battery just went kahplooey one day and he was no more. I think that's why I was born. If I keep getting used like this, I have no doubt that I am next. It'd be one thing if I could move at all, but no I am confined to wherever my owner takes me. Oh what I wouldn't give to be his cell phone too, getting to see all those cool sights and stuff. Life just isn't fair - some objects have it so much better than others."
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.