Set programming is all that this is.
A way my brain is fixed to respond.
I have tried to remove and erase, to reprogram.
I have tried to embrace positivity
But I am hemmed into this myopia like a rat in a cage.
I suck on cigarettes through the day.
Short breaths caused by fear clutching and squeezing,
depressing my lungs.
Knowledge that is always certain,
set in stone,
floods my mind and feeds it,
lets my thought flowers grow,
grow too much like those “damn extended metaphors” and take over control of me.
Set programming.
Nothing I can do these days.
I am not an android, though.
This is not all that I am.
I am not a computer running code and following commands. I am a human being of flesh and blood: this is nature in one of its human forms and allows me my better days free from that cigarette fug and nicotine-fuelled rushes. Relaxed days, breathing nicely and thinking clearly, more rationally, allowing me the space and time to discover the possibilities and weigh them up against one another. No jumping, no overlord those days.
And days of blissful nothingness, silence, without the need for either scenario described above. Days of rest; effective Sundays when my need to explain one way or another hides away and lets me be, to feel normal and free-willed.
No panic,
no pain,
only peace.
The human feelings of others.
Because
I may be paranoid
but I am not an android.
Note: I wrote this (and the one before) after NME.COM pronounced Radiohead's Paranoid Android as their Best Song of the Last 15 Years. I'm pretty sure it was this countdown and that in the magazine version of the article they mentioned the line of the song spoken by a Mac computer, "I may be paranoid but not an android." I had always thought the line was "Repriortise a paranoid android," inspired by this discovery, wrote a story springing from each line.
This one also uses a quote from the Los Campesinos! song My Year in Lists.
A way my brain is fixed to respond.
I have tried to remove and erase, to reprogram.
I have tried to embrace positivity
But I am hemmed into this myopia like a rat in a cage.
I suck on cigarettes through the day.
Short breaths caused by fear clutching and squeezing,
depressing my lungs.
Knowledge that is always certain,
set in stone,
floods my mind and feeds it,
lets my thought flowers grow,
grow too much like those “damn extended metaphors” and take over control of me.
Set programming.
Nothing I can do these days.
I am not an android, though.
This is not all that I am.
I am not a computer running code and following commands. I am a human being of flesh and blood: this is nature in one of its human forms and allows me my better days free from that cigarette fug and nicotine-fuelled rushes. Relaxed days, breathing nicely and thinking clearly, more rationally, allowing me the space and time to discover the possibilities and weigh them up against one another. No jumping, no overlord those days.
And days of blissful nothingness, silence, without the need for either scenario described above. Days of rest; effective Sundays when my need to explain one way or another hides away and lets me be, to feel normal and free-willed.
No panic,
no pain,
only peace.
The human feelings of others.
Because
I may be paranoid
but I am not an android.
Note: I wrote this (and the one before) after NME.COM pronounced Radiohead's Paranoid Android as their Best Song of the Last 15 Years. I'm pretty sure it was this countdown and that in the magazine version of the article they mentioned the line of the song spoken by a Mac computer, "I may be paranoid but not an android." I had always thought the line was "Repriortise a paranoid android," inspired by this discovery, wrote a story springing from each line.
This one also uses a quote from the Los Campesinos! song My Year in Lists.
No comments:
Post a Comment