In a Hollow Chest

I've been thinking a lot about humanity as of recent. Every human I've seen walk past me; old, young, fit, frail. They all share one thing, their humanity. No matter the circumstances, they will feel something. They are blessed with emotion.

The thought started as I walked through a town. There were people stretched over the cold concrete as far as I could see. I saw a group of teenagers laughing on a wall. They were each dressed distinctive from the other. One was in a lovely pale pink skirt, and one was in a pair of skilfully ripped jeans. Another was wearing a grey cap, while the one next to them had their hair in a wonderful updo. I watched a group of men shaking hands and talk loudly with each other. Catching up about old times, planning to go for a meal somewhere. In much lower spirits, I saw a women slumped on a bench, her eyes weary and dark. There was a boy outside a shop crying to his mother and father. Fun, cheer, tiredness, sadness. All in one scene, yet none were out of place.

I noticed all these people, the scene of a bustling street made up of the small brush strokes of people must be one of the most overlooked beauties in human history. Each person you see is living in the same world as you, yet you don't notice them and they don't notice you. In all honesty, I think it strange how much humans overlook things. With the finite nature of human life you'd think they'd notice every detail of their short existence, or at least appreciate it more. Perhaps, it's because I'm not human that I notice these things, and the only reason I do is because it's in my programming.

As I drew closer to the end of the town. The people began to thin out. While observing this, I forgot to look where I was going and walked into a woman. Before I could apologise, she spat some abuse at me and then strutted proudly away. I had seen this happen to others before. The rage in their eyes as hurtful words were chucked at them, or the fear in their tremble as they prepared for the worst were foreign to me. Being a machine I can not feel as humans do, so incidents like this don't bother me. I resent that fact. I'd love to feel the anger flare up inside me at their harmful words, but I can't. It's not in my design to do so.

Eventually, I reached my final destination. Ahead of me lay a peaceful park. Slowly, I walked over to a nearby bench. Moments after I did so a jogger ran past me. I know that exercise like that can cause a humans heart to beat faster. A heart is one of my only desires; a beating heart is the proof that one is alive, that blood flows through your veins and fills your organs. Blood does not flow through my veins and I do not possess organs. As a machine, I know I have no use for a heart; that does not deter me from wanting one though. The luxury of placing a hand to your chest or a finger on your pulse is too enchanting not to think about. This too leaves me with questions about humans; if they couldn't feel their pulse or their heart beat in their chest, how would they know they were alive?

I sit on this bench now and look up at the darkening sky. I could sit here forever, maybe I'd be content with that, but I know that people are not allowed to just sit in one place 'til the end of time. I take my time leaving; trying to take in as much as I can before I leave. This is undoubtedly the worst thing I've ever done.

The scene before me is the most horrifying I've ever seen. Pale legs littered with unnatural scars dangle off of the ground in front of me. Dead eyes stare unblinking down at me, and I can't break eye contact with her.

I've been thinking a lot about humanity recently. About how humans will always feel something no matter the circumstances, but I was wrong. Humans can stop feeling, and they want to. I'm sorry, I was wrong. Emotions are no blessing; instead something that we are all cursed with.