I am mighty skeptical of this. I know the purpose but I don’t think anything will come of it . Adam says it’s a good idea. My problem is I can’t type that fast so snaur anything that comes to my mind will be their before I can type it out. It’ll fester. Anyways, how are yoeu? What’s you’r story? What’s it like being a computer? Talk to me baby. That sounds like a terrible life I’ dnopk.
As a character, I failed to develop. My maker never had a plan for me, and I’m kind of a blank slate. What more is there to say? I had ambitions once. I wanted to be the guy who chose the heads for pez dispensers. I found out they have more than one guy for that, so I gave up.
It’s not working. It’s all premeditated. I thought of all of this before I wrote it, even these words now. Not much before it, just a few seconds, but before it none the less. My fingers are slower than my brain, which is weird because I never thought my brain was all that fast to begin with. I guess if your brain is slow, it would make your fingers slower too. Well that’s the last thing I thought of to say. Lie. I thought of all of this too. Suckers. I sure fooled you, didn’t I? You sure look stupid. I’m glad I’m not you.
I’m just taking this one sentence at a time. I’m not pausing after every sentence, but I’ll think of one sentence and than write it, which takes time. Time when my brain isn’t really occupied and I just go to the next sentence, as such I’m writing the same sentances but not as good and with more mistakes.
So what did you do today? What’s your game, you prude? Where did that come from? Don’t know who I was talking to. Let’s find him again. Where are you, you snobby lonely prude? Hiding in the shade? I’ll find you. I lost you.
Time to throw in the towel. I’ll never find him because he was never me. I was me. I’m gonna try to be him again.
I’m a prude. I’m scared to try anything fun, but I hang out here and pretend like that isn’t the case. I want to be like them but I don’t want to be them. They get into trouble, but I like them. They have a power that I don’t. I’m restricted by my fear. Freedom, that is their power.
What a pretentious piece of crap. "Freedom, that is their power?" Talk about self important and snobbish. I should strive to be more childlike… maybe. Childlike might not be the right word. Childhood is often idealized. I’m the same person I was then, just more of me.
