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I promise I’m human

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Mom, Julia is my mom. Today, a mere three inches from my right ear, she slowly sung a song of moderation. One to stop me from breaking my codex, so I could fit correctly. Everyone wanders with so much confidence here, so much presence. I sit in a realm of numbers, they pour down over my eyes when I see streetlights. My retinas don’t adjust. I saw a dog eat a rat tail today, I was unmoved. No abhorrence, no reaction. I thought this could be fixed- mom told me it’s just how I was born. Mother says I’m perfect just the way I am. Neither of us believe it. My software degrades, the streets start to fade into a nothingness that can’t be broken down into numbers. I can’t compute, I can’t grow. Sometimes in the midst of conversation, I see an error message float across my gaze, and I can’t help but run to it. I try to fix the random sparks, the cracks in my circuitry, the oil in my blood. It does nothing. I forget, I shut down. I wanted to be real.