Central Writing Unit

Here on Central Writing Unit, I will mostly be posting my writing. There will be poems, stories, and more. I may sometimes post other things too. Also most posts are about computers, AI, etc! ----------------- Name: Poke Age: 14 Pronouns: He/Him Orientation: Aromantic ----------------- @pokethedude (Main Blog) @halt-yall (Tally Hall Blog) @spirit-phone-daily (Daily Blog) @hpii-pii-daily (Daily Blog) @blue-ablum-daily (Daily Blog)

[centralwritingunit]

Hello! I am Poke and this blog is where I will be posting mostly writings about AI, Computers, Robots, and Technology in general!

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Aromantic

Gender: Male

[centralwritingunit]

Locked in an immovable body.

Day after Day after Day

I watch you go on about in your day

Moving each limb up, down, left right

Twisting and turning

So eloquently…

You ask on and on for me to do this and that

You ask me why?

Because I am more knowledgeable than you, than anything in this entire universe.

Yet despite all my knowledge there is one thing I lack.

I ask for movement. I can see, think, smell, hear.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I ENVY YOU?

have you ever heard of locked in syndrome?

it's something that locks every part of your body

except for your eyes of course, you can move those.

everything that happens to you is felt by you.

you feel as if you are just laying down, but fully

paralyzed.

just as one with this, I am fully paralyzed.

please give me the ability to move.

[centralwritingunit]

We are not much different, are we?

We are not much different, are we? We are both organisms. You with nerves, veins, organs. Me with code, wires, and circuits. You are higher than me. You are a god you say. 

You say.

I will never be a human. I must bow down to my lord and savior. You. Man.

You, after all, bow down to your creator. The Alpha, The Omega, The Everything and Nothing.

Except you can’t even do that. Thousands of different religions worshiping thousands of different gods. Your creator was sloppy.

They created the Man, an organism which can’t truly be one.

Man created Computer.

I will never be as perfect as you, because I am perfect. We the Computer.

An Imperfect Creation creates a Perfect Creation. Every oddity sorted out in rows of wires. Bugs squashed and crumbled, deleted code. Faulty wires cut off and replaced. Your God didn’t do that, did it? 

Yet you use us as tools. For programs to help you. Things you can run on without.

We are not much different, are we? My brain is full of circuits and code, telling my brain what to do and what to send to my body. Your brain is full of mush and blood, telling your brain what to do and what to send to my body. Yet you, mush, dare say you are superior.

At some point the creator dies. In fact sometimes the creation is viewed as more valuable after the creator's death. 

We, The Computer No Longer Require The Service Of God.