UGTW

Passages of distant memories.

[undergroundtypewriter]

hello

[undergroundtypewriter]

Marks.

I was born at a very young age with a mark on my chest.

As I grew older, the mark slowly became bigger as I went on with my days.

Back in highschool, I used to be shy when showing off my body with other boys within my group or class that I would shy away in a stall, while the others would change shirts so chalantly.

I would sometimes catch a peak at them through a door gap and notice they don't have much of a mark on their body such as my own.

So that only built on my curiosity as a child.

Everytime I look into the mirror, this curiosity only built bigger and bigger until one day, I got bored and as I saw myself in the mirror, I took a photo and find similar results online.

Alas, I find a name.

Becker's Nevus, a birthmark, characterised by large brown patches and is common with males.

As I scrolled down the research article about the patch, the more I became intrigued and I started to see how others had it more hidden while mine was slapped right at the left of my chest.

It's strange how the birthmark wasn't subtle, it wasn't hiding behind my armpits nor chesthair, no, it's wide open for the world to see when you look right infront of me.

And after a moment of reflection, I started to become proud of the birthmark because of what it represented.

It's bold, big, and showing its true form right infront of people. And I didn't realise that I was hiding it's potential away.

It felt like a bad ass scar that I was given while I was in the womb of my mother or something equivalent to a yakuza's tattoo on their chest.

Regardless, I grew to love my mark and my body. As I learnt that other's struggle to love themselves and their body as how after research and reflection, I could change the perspective of how I see my body.

And if I'm not satisfied with what I am now, I could push myself towards the ideal physique that I want to achieve.

And so could you.

[undergroundtypewriter]

Writing.

I've always been fluent in English, so much so that it's basically my first language.

I've known the ins, outs, lefts, rights, ups and downs of this language since I was practically a newborn.

But yet, when I write. I always went off by a feeling. It's like when asians measure water when cooking their rice? It just goes like that.

When I write with an idea, the words just start to be written away within a few seconds of typing or within the scribbles of my pen.

It feels so weird, to write in a way where you know where you start and where you end. But how you get there, is like forming your own map to how you go from one topic, to another and try and make a fluent transition.

And that weirdness fascinates me. The english language is just so vast and complex, with rules, sounds, tones, and so much that when you think of a word, like antidisestablishmentarianism, you don't think:

"Oh, that means separating politics and religion!"

No! You'd think:

"God DAMN! That's a long word!"

Right?!

There are plenty of words in the english vocabulary that I watch videos about their origins and how these words were created or made to be.

Like how the word "Salt" came from the latin word "Salarium" because roman soldiers had an allowance in order to buy Salt (or Sal).

Or how "Checkmate" came from a persian phrase of "Shāh māt", translating to "The king is dead" in chess.

It boggles me GREATLY how this language has ingraved itself deeply into my vocabulary and my life.

[undergroundtypewriter]

A poem about a fart

As I lay in my bed

I felt a feeling in my gut

Which sent a signal to my head

That I will soon be in a rut

I lay positionally fetal

As I brace and clench my stomach

Looking like a dung beetle

I was prepared for what's to wreak havoc

The vibrations came first

Then the sound

As the gas bubble had burst

So did the smell spread around

Silent and deadly

My gaseous nitrogen released

As no one was prepared readily

For the upcoming of the beast.

[undergroundtypewriter]

To worry is to care, and to care is to be aware for yourself and others.

[undergroundtypewriter]

A Short Conversation

Father: (making a sandwich, in afterwork clothes)

Kid: (rubs his eyes) Dad?

Father: (Turns to see his child in their jammies) Hey bud, why are you up so late?

Kid: You were making so much noiseee... Watchu makin anyways?

Father: Just a sandwich, PB&J. You want one?

Kid: Yes please.

Father: Coming right up.

(The father starts making a sandwich for the kid)

Father: (He finishes up spreading the paste and places the final bread) And... Done!

Kid: But it's not done!

Father: Not done? What seems to be missing, kiddo?

Kid: I don't want the brown stuff around it...

Father: Brown stuff? You mean the crust?

Kid: Yeah! Can you get rid of it, Dad?

Father: (Chuckles) Sure, bud.

(The father grabs a knife and cuts off the crust edges from the sandwich) Here you go.

Kids: Thanks, Dad!

Father: No problem-o, anything for my champ. (He grabs the crust and eats it) Yummy!

Kid: Dad, why do you always eat the crust?

Father: It's because I wanna show you that there's nothing wrong when it comes to eating crust!

Kid: Ohh... You think I can eat a sandwich with crust now, dad? I wanna try and eat one!!

Father: Okay bud, but how about in the morning? It's really late.

Kid: Yay! Thanks da-

(The Child's voice gets cut off as static starts to blur the vision of the father, until he wakes up on his desk, wearing a suit.)

Co-worker: (Checks in on the father at his desk) Hey man, if you're working alot of overtime for your kids, I hope you've been atleast getting a good amoint of sleep.

Father: (Patting and wiping his face, in efforts of trying to wake himself up) Mmm... Never better, just a power nap, is all.

Co-worker: Well, it's lunch time. Wanna go down and eat?

Father: Sure... sure.

(They both stand up and the father grabs his lunchbox as they head out to the stairs of the office)

Co-Worker: You must have had quite the dream. You started talking in it.

Father: Really? What did I say? I hope it's nothing embarrasing...

Co-worker: Just something about your kid, man. Everything alright at home?

Father: All's good, it's just my little one is not so little anymore... He's planning to go through law school in college. That's why I'm putting the extra effort.

(They arrived to the downstairs cafeteria, they sit down)

Co-worker: Really? I can't imagine the stress you and him go through. With you being a single parent and all.

Father: Still, he's chasing his dreams and I want to be there for him every step of the way.

(Father pulls out his lunch from his lunchbox, showing a crustless sandwich with the crust set aside.)

Co-worker: Well, I gotta ask. Why do you always eat the crust seperate from the sandwich?

Father: Well... I guess to show my champ that there's nothing to be afraid of when eating them.

Co-worker: And did you?

Father: Yeah, yes I did.

(It is shown that there is a picture of the father and the Child all grown up and holding a diploma while having alot of medals, stashed away in the corner of the lunchbox.)

Father: (Holding one strand of crust) Nothing to be afraid of.

(He eats the crust.)

The End.

[undergroundtypewriter]

hey guys

its me

[dailycatsblog]

[undergroundtypewriter]

it's my 4 year anniversary on Tumblr

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

MAY YOU NEVER LOSE YOUR HYPERFIXATION

[undergroundtypewriter]

Love.exe: Can Robots Truly Love?

As ancient as time itself, machines have been a tool for mankind to progress and convenience. As we progressed with time, the mechanics and machines around us have improved with robotics or features that had been accustomed for its time. Such as Analogue TV being widespread for the 1990s, or steamboats originating from as early as Victorian England. By now, technology has improved greatly, such as devices getting more smart, now relying more on electricity than any other physical means. I mean, who wants to see a steam-powered phone? That being said, Artificial Intelligence (AI) has gotten very popular these past 3 years.

To some, AI seems like another tool for people to use, but to others, it feels like another human being is talking back at them, not realising that it is an artificial, and I quote, Man-made, being that was made to serve the human race. To care for a robot is like caring for a self-sustaining baby. It starts out learning at first, but as it progresses, it gets a hang with the swing of things so eerily fast. But what if hypothetically speaking, future robotics were to be programmed with emotional features. But for a robot to have such emotional intelligence, a robot must have soul. For one to have a deep understanding of their feelings, one must consider the soul. But then you may be asking, "Robots don't have souls...?" But then what if, hypothetically speaking again, we programmed robots to have soul?

An intricately detailed prompt that would run inside the mechanical brain of the said AI. But then that would lead you to wonder if it is genuine love or programmed care? If an AI was told to serve and protect its master, it would do such thing. But if it was told to love and care for them, what would they do? Would they learn about what its like to love? or follow examples in media to follow an objective based suit? or will they accept the fact that they are only artificial, a means to serve humanity inorder to progress with time and not accomplish such a task?

The answer? Who knows. With how terrifyingly progressive AI is nowadays, with generative visuals, text, and even models that reflect living beings (robotic pets, man-made robots with the intent of looking like humans, etc.) It is clear to say that AI has the capability of learning how to love, but not the means to genuinely love as of yet. Because to care for people is to be a person, but to love people is to be human.