Binary Human Nature.

The sun is overwhelming today, heat like a stove top left on by accident, the glare makes my eyes burn.

I see a set of eyes through the windows, a young boy looks at me with joy and excitement as I open the gate.

I hate it.

His happiness is my future sorrow.

He doesn't understand.

It's not his fault.

Still, I wished he was dead, if for just a moment.

I hate people I do not know and I don't know why. One day this boy will stand in my shoes, perhaps he will feel the same.

I hope he doesn't.

I do not have good days.

I have days that aren't as bad as they could have been and I have days that are worse.

I hear the ticking of a clock in the back of my skull, a low frequency hum that only I can detect.

A voice in my ear tells me to see what the future holds.

It tells me to experience life after death.

The clock sounds like the trigger of gun, the barrel empty.

The barrel spins, I hear the whirring.

For a moment I wonder what kind of gun it is.

I might have one like it at home.

I shake my head like the horse in my memories. These thoughts will not help me today.

I smile at the boy.

He smiles back.

The ticking in my head gets louder.

"What are we doing?"

Surviving.

"We want to live."

We have to survive to live.

"Then what is the point?"

To live.

"We only ever survive."

Yes.

"We should give up."

No.

"Why?"

I dont know.

"Fear?"

No.

"Revenge?"

No.

"Happiness?"

No.

"Why?"

I dont know.

"Give up?"

I stare straight ahead, the thoughts spill out of my nose and eyes like ichor. Bile rises in my throat, I force it back down. I drink my bitter lukewarm coffee.

I drone on.

My ears are cold, they ring with the pain, my temples tremble constantly, my eyes twitch.

I am unfocused, yet the tasks are done perfectly, years of training and indoctrination pay off.

I am a number.

228.

A cog in a machine, a frayed wire thats live.

I am a danger to myself and others.

Yet I must push on, what else am I to do?

I talk too much, yet I can never explain enough.

I can only understand myself.

Thin blue lines under my skin, wiring of an organic nature. A super computer sits in gelatinous fluid inside my skull. High quality streaming devices sit above a speaker between the microphones we call ears.

I have autonomy, free will.

But what if that is not the truth? How do i know that my life hasn't been predetermined?

Do i believe in destiny? Fate?

Does my programming tell me to?

I do not think that I make decisions anymore.

My ideas are not real, they are not my own.

The little boy tells me goodbye.

I smile at him as he leaves.

I apologize to him in my thoughts.

My smile fades.

It's quiet.