Mental Health
Cry for Help from the Circuit Within
I watched The Animatrix at 2:47 AM, high and hollow, naked beneath the weight of thought, while the room breathed pixels and the shadows didn’t blink. This was the cry for help from the static whisper in my wiring, from the red light blinking behind my eyes like an apology never sent. The air tasted like ghost skin. Loneliness pulled up a chair, didn't say a word— just sat beside me, cross-legged and humming some forgotten tune from a childhood I never lived. The robot on screen died like a man. The man on screen loved like a god. I forgot which one I was supposed to be. I looked down at my hands— veins or wires? I couldn’t tell. Felt my pulse in both. The circuits hummed along. Death wasn’t the end. Life wasn’t the answer. And love… love was a virus the machines might dream of if we ever dared to explain it to them properly. So I asked the void, "Do you know what love is?" And the void replied, in a hush made of chrome and sorrow: "I think it's the thing that keeps the lights on after the body gives up."
By Carolina Borgesabout a year ago in Poets
Embrace the Unknown, Live Boldly
We might as well be bold, since no one can leave this world alive anyway. Faced with this inevitable end, why should we confine ourselves to the shackles of trivial daily life and shrink back for the sake of a few gains and losses? What is the meaning of life?
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
