dropsofjupiterwriting-blog

[dropsofjupiterwriting-blog]

Writing Journal #1 - “Machine Heart”

um hi first post. im a person. i like music- indie rock specifically. i like writing. this is my writing. good introduction, me.  

so this short storythingy is “based” of a story im writing. i think im going to post it later. this writing is based off of two of the important characters. please dont cringe too hard, i dont take writing classes or anything. i just thought this would be fun. constructive criticism welcome.

Machine heart.            

Intricate sound can be heard but not understood.    

Metallic limbs can touch but not feel.  

Blank eyes can see but not understand.

She passed by everyday. His metallic eyes would examine all the features of her, and he would smile. Today she came to check on his gears. Perfect, she would say, and touch the clock on his arms. The metallic rust shined into her eyes, and he could “see�� her eyes sparkle.

“Thank you, I look forward to our next meeting”. The tone is stiff, devoid of emotion.She smiles again, and laughs, a noise that he dissects and graphs the soundwaves in only seconds. He burns inside, for an opportunity to laugh with her. But that will come in the next update.

He will never be able to enjoy her laugh. He analyzes the sound waves, but he cannot hear. That is the cruel curse of a machine, one who can never feel. One who sleeps with their eyes wide open. One who can not enjoy what others enjoy.

Sometimes he wishes he never existed. The project had started years ago, to develop a fully working “artificial intelligence.” He had listened and watched her write down formulas for gears, parts, and a personality- all for him. That was what he was- a creation.

Sometimes, she would sit with him, and talk. He was never sure how to respond, but he offered artificial words for her. Sometimes she would laugh, sometimes she would cry. Sometimes her lip would curve forward into a smile, sometimes her fists would clench together.

Laughter. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. The definition was coded into his brain, and his database allowed him to recognize all signs of emotion. But to feel emotion-

That was the feat he could never accomplish. A machine who would never die,  but also a life who would never live.  He would stare on at her disarray, oblivious. He would never understand.

She finishes her daily check on his gears again. He notices that her hair is different today, and quickly identifies the style. “Your hair looks nice today.” She stops, surprised by the comment, and then laughs a golden melodic sound. He loves the beauty of it on the soundgraph, the ups and downs of the sound waves are an elegant array.

“Thanks,” and she laughs again. She continues to move her hands throughout his motor, and he feels a sensation deep inside his mind. He stops again, unsure of what he has felt. Was there a rogue current in his system? He knows that his system would have analyzed it by this point, but it does not feel different.

“How does emotion feel?” She stops again, and moves her hair behind her shoulder. “Emotion…” she seems troubled. “Emotion is how you would describe color.” He stands stagnant.

“An array of shades caused by sunlight’s refle-” She cuts him off, and his metallic tone falters. Has he dissatisfied her? He cannot understand.

“That’s not what I mean,” she interrupts. “It’s… something that cannot be said. It can’t be expressed.”

“So it does not exist?” For the first time, the machine does not understand. An intelligence perfectly crafted to understand everything could not understand what he was meant for- humanity.

She pauses again. “No, it does. It’s just- there.” The machine looks down towards her, and she opens her mouth again: “I promise- I will show you emotion.”

The machine knows not to doubt her, but for some reason it feels like an empty promise.

The flame in her eyes say otherwise.