What makes me Tick

Thu, 07/31/2014 - 19:27 -- wkumler


Do not ask me what makes me tick

I am not a clock

My hands move in scribbles across this page

not circles around my face.

If you cut me open

I will bleed and you will find

veins and bones and pain

not gears and levers.

My mind is not a logic circuit

but an infinite universe in a finite space.

I look into my mind and I’m afraid I’ll get lost

How can I be ordered with a mind of chaos?

Sometimes this dust speck wants to forget, to assure himself of his importance. But the stars are too beautiful to ignore and they are reminders that I am but dust.

And I might be dust. But I am a beautiful and elegant and sentient dust particle.

And I demand to know what I’ve been put here for

Breathe in. Such a rush.

That’s called passion, I love life so much

There’s a reason my mind wakes me up each day

A reason my heart continues to beat.

The reason we are alive is so that we can live, but what living is is for you to decide.

I do things, not because they make sense, but because I need to.

I need to hope, to fear, to breathe, to dread, to love, to live.

Because there are seven billion robots on this planet and


Just want

To be




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