Zeros and Ones

Zeros and ones,
Zeros and ones,
That’s what they say it’s like when a robot thinks. How does a human think? Images, thought, concentrated and Dynamic forms of expression known as Feelings. These highly concentrated feelings can not actually be expressed in any other way, we slap words, labels, to them, but the word love never, even if it tried, come close to the feeling, the idea, of what it represents.
Do robots dream?
That is a question that floats up time and time again, in the sea of my mind. How do we know if they do or not? How do we, as arrogant human beings, know that the person sitting next to us on the bus, in our bed, or on a sofa in a bare room can think? Brain activity can prove it, scientists declare! But in reality all we really can know for sure, is that we exist.
So how then, can we say robots can not think? There is a story, that has now surfaced to the top of the sea of fragmented thoughts and feelings that dwells in my mind. The story is about a robot, more specifically an android, that could not only think, but could love.
The leftside page, my least favorite on spiral notebook, but this however, is not a spiral notebook, therefore it is comforting to slide my hand across the crease in the middle of the notebook.
The day a human does not get side tracked, even for a millisecond, will be the day it has become a machine.
The android was named, Anna. She was not named after the Basshunter song either. Anna was part of an experiment created to test interactions between Artificial Intelligence and Actual Intelligence. For the record reader, I have a difficult time spelling, the thoughts and visions in my head are feelings, these scribbles I scratch onto this paper were merely assigned to this feelings, moreover please pardon my spelling errors as well as my grammatical ones. Anna was assigned to a high school, she looked like a human being, the only difference was she looked dazed with rubbery skin, cellophane.
Anna was submitted to Pompey High in the city that shares the same name. Her first weeks were rather strange. Geeks would follow her around, like Anime Nerds follow Japanese exchange students. But Anna felt something when she was near an individual.
We all have observed those outsiders; the loner who hides in the corner of the classroom and hallways like a moth to light. This boy’s name was, Brock, Dorian Brock IV. He was a goth/industrial kid who loved J-rock. Brock was not the most attractive boy in the school nor was he outgoing at all, he looked like the kind who would shoot up a school; Virginia Tech or Columbine High. Anna wanted to talk to him.
‘How could he be so isolated? He is a human, shouldn’t he be accepted and converse with them like all the others do?’ Anna thought to herself. She would watch him all fifth period, Anatomy. Ironic isn’t it?
“Today’s topic, students.” The teacher announced. “Is sexual intercourse.” A few students giggle, Anna feels a strange sensation rise from between her legs and harvest itself in her torso.
“We will be talking about,” He continued, “how intercourse works.” Less students giggled this time. Anna felt her breath lesson and her thoughts narrow, and all she could think about was Brock.
“The male takes his hardened penis,” The teacher stated. “And puts it into his partner’s, lets assume it’s a female, into her sopping wet vagina. He thrusts it deeper and deeper pulling it out every time, he does this until he reaches an orgasm.”
“What about the chick doesn’t she orgasm?” An arrogant stupid student assumes.
“Well, Rodriguiez,” The teacher said in an annoyed manner. “To give a girl an orgasm is a possibility BUT intercourse is a means of procreating the human race. But there might be a way, with the advances in science, to birth a true cyborg.”
Everyone turned to look at Anna.
“Botten Anna,” The teacher asks. “Do you believe it would be possible to birth a true cyborg?”
“I do not believe so sir.” She responded. “But I would like to try.” Her eyes shift to look at Brock, they lock eyes.
She is captivated by the beautiful radiance of his sea foam green [midnight teal] eyes. She noticed his gaze was strong and elegant. She wondered how strong his penis would be if it were hardened. The bell rang, and the students flocked to the hallways, Brock and Anna were the last to leave. They walked down the hallways together, starting small talk.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much…just the ceiling.” She responds.
“I didn’t mean that literally.”
“Oh, I apologize.”
“You’re different,” He pauses, as if he offended her. “I’m sorry.”
“It is not an insult to me.” She looks at his skin, soft silky, like a human baby. “It is the truth.”
“I hope this isn’t an unqualified feeling I have.” Brock says.
“What feeling?” She asked.
“I want to be inside you.”
“It is not unqualified.” She states. “You would have to lead, I am not accustomed to human nature and terms of showing affection.”
And just as those words left her cybernetic vocal cords he grabbed her and they slammed into the Janitor’s closet. He threw her up and slammed her into the wall kissing her cellophane skin. Anna had never felt these feelings before. She was thinking in a new mode, like the difference between safe and standard mode.
Brock slowly slipped his hand into her shirt. She felt his smooth skin touch her stomach, then his hand up, up until he reached her bra.
A moan escaped her mouth like a Tesla coil.
His grip was strong but not painful. He was aggressive but not abusive, this was indeed, a good way to start a relationship. His head was buried in her neck, she could feel him biting it.
Everything in her wanted to take him into her. She called out to him, and he reacted more physically. He slid his other hand up her shirt and held her with his body onto the wall. A feeling was building up inside of her, like the fizz from a soda bottle. She felt him pinching her nipples. The scientists who created her really knew what they were doing. She started breathing harder and quicker.
“I want you inside me!” She said with quick breaths. He obliged and removed his hands from her shirt, and unbuttoned her pants. He pulled down her pants and panties. He removed his and thrust into her. She screamed with ecstasy. The moan resembled that of a glitched and granulized scream from a badass techno song.
The thrusting continued like the bass drum in a house song, several minutes with no change. The change was in Anna’s body. She was about to overflow, closer, closer close CLOSER.
She felt his penis throb inside of her. It was growing larger and larger, harder and harder. She had files on the average of male penises, Brock’s was erotically larger than the typical males. Anna’s moan increased its rhythmic progression; it increased pitch until at length she came.
It was amazing, her circuits were on overload. She needed time to cool down, she fell to her knees. She looked up to him, stroking his penis. She instinctively opened her mouth, and he came on her face.
Some say robots have no feelings, but Anna proved them wrong, Not only has she proved them wrong, but she was the first robot to kill herself because of a broken heart.
Zeros and ones,
Zeros and ones.
-Sir Jestro