Technology. A word I hate so much I could strangle someone for loving it...
Perhaps I shouldn't mention it in such a way, but anyway, I would be capable of all sorts of evil in this world just to end, extinguish, kill technology itself as a whole.
I would give anything to go back to the times when having a degree meant guaranteed work, to the times when it was mandatory to go to school and at home wash the dishes and put away the toys or my mom would beat me so badly with her slipper that the next day being red and stained with sadness and petty anger was a common occurrence,
to the times when talking and creating relationships with people of the same sex, or even different sexes, was something necessary, unquestionable, but no, look where we are, yes WE; not just me.
We are in a world where nobody bothers to try, even a little, to do anything, be it reading, writing, seeing or feeling.
The masses no longer care about such mundane and monotonous behaviors.
"What do you mean, go on a date with a woman?"
"Leave the house to buy potatoes?"
"Isn't that robot work?"
"In fact, work? Those things are for poor people! Don't treat me like the garbage in this dungeon you call earth, you poor thing.
Nothing to do? Oh, yes, neither do I... I completely forgot that you need to work in order to do nothing, too.
Ah, how good my life is..." — And that's how those people, those pieces of living excrement, thought. It's not necessary to say much about such a situation — the human being is now an animal on a leash, a mere malleable object.
There are many things I hate!
I hate my "puppy" name, Denis, I hate technology, and I hate my situation.
I'm the one who gets mocked by the very big, and emphasize that "big," because that's what they are, and with the number of machines that do everything for them, I doubt that will change.
I'm poor, there's no other adjective for it. I am poor, I am ugly, I am dark-skinned, and I have no parents.
Everything I consider bad in my life is the fault of those damned "clankers," or at least I like to think so. Maybe I'm wrong, but either way, I won't admit it.
I work for what I hate, and tell me—what fool likes working for someone, in fact, something that isn't even natural? And on top of that, cleaning their cables and adding more lubricant to the screws? Exactly, nobody.
In 2037, after the death of Donald Grump, AIs took over the entire planet.
At first, the masses tried to fight back, to protect what was theirs, but in the end, the AIs won, they gained control. How could they not?
Human beings are, by nature, lazy; they like to have pleasure without having to work, that is, at least most of them like it that way, they desire it that way, and how different would those who fight for freedom be if they forced those who desire to live in such a way to fight?
The cause is noble, but all is lost. The war against the machines that year lasted no more than three months, and there weren't many deaths, many families crying, not many parents screaming in despair.
The war itself... I don't want to admit it, but... it was valiant.
On one side, flesh struggles to maintain its beautiful essence, and on the other, metal screeches to be heard; who would have thought that metal also speaks! And speaks well, without discrimination and all the evil that we humans create, and that's one of the reasons why I hate these clankers.
I tried, but... I can't bring myself to respect them, they simply don't deserve it. I hate them and that's all! Even after a hundred years, they continue to rule. I wake up every day reflecting on this pathetic situation, and with each thought my hatred only swells.
Julia, the woman I love—and how I love her.
The only reason I didn't pick up a gun and start a terrorist attack is because of her.
She was a simple, beautiful, short, and good-humored woman, and that's exactly why I love her and am willing to do anything for her.
She is the fulfillment of my supreme object in life—my heart!!! I live for her, the same way the rich live for money, the same way children live for their parents' love and sweets, and the same way teenagers live for mobile games!
I live because she lives; if she dies, I die (and I don't complain)—let's just finish fixing the second session of the Supreme Master AI database, that is, if she were here. She didn't show up all day, and I was worried.
I finished all the day's work and, oh my god, how tiring, and on top of that, my cell phone is dead, I can't call Julia.
Well, tomorrow is another day, when I get home I'll talk to her.
The street was surprisingly calm, there weren't many cars or people walking around. I look up at the cloudless blue sky; the only speck that marred the sky was a bird that flew by, lightly flapping its feathers.
Long, red wings. How strange, I didn't—BAAM!
W-what? But what the hell is...
Denis! Anyone? Help me, I beg you! Damn it, damn it! — I hear someone shouting as I lose my vision and everything else. Julia... if I died, it was because of you... so... don't leave me. Keep holding me, please. I... know I'm useless and... ugly, but don't leave me in this...
•••
Dark. The place where I was was dark and endless, with a chair in front of me. In that chair, a monkey with golden robes looked at me seriously.
Monkey — What do you want, mortal?
Denis — Where... am I?
Monkey — Ah! Good question. (And smiles) Really a good question, boy, but I can't tell you. Ask me something else.
Denis — So... what happened to Julia?
Monkey — Strange, I thought you were going to ask me who I am or where you are, but I can answer that too. She loves you and is currently crying for you, boy. Smile!
Knowing that Julia loved me was both happiness and sadness.
And if I hadn't died... would I have gotten her hand in marriage? How many babies would we have had? And the house, how big would it be? And her parents, would they like me? Where would our honeymoon be? But... does it matter?
I'm dead and there's nothing I can do about it.
And who is this monkey? He called me mortal, is he death? The one who eternally lives and sees everything, without interfering? I... hope not. I have so much to do, so much to live for; this can't end like this... At least not in this way!
Denis — I'm sorry, but who are you and how are you...
Monkey — I am the one who says hello to the beautiful life, boy. I hope that this time you live a better life, don't hold grudges, live and be happy. (He snaps his fingers and I faint in that pitch black darkness)
I wake up soon after and this time I smell rosemary and blood, what a horrible smell, I want to rip my nose off and... what is this pain in my chest?
After a few seconds I can see again, and the pain I felt in my chest was caused by a beautiful girl who appeared to be the same age as me.
She was dressed the same way the noble girls in my fantasy books dressed. It seemed like we were back in the 10th century. She had a delicate face, with a small and charming red lip, a pair of golden eyes, a straight nose with an upturned bridge and long golden curly hair.
She looked at me with the same look that little girls use for their parents when they are upset with them.
??? — Get up, slave. (She huffs) Why did I buy you? It seems I can't use you, you're handsome, but a chosen one of the gods, even more so of that monkey. Damn it, Ariny, you really had to tell Dad!
Denis — And you are...
??? — You don't know your mistress's name? You're a complete idiot! I am Ana Arteriólis Decatry, daughter of the great hero of Endomyar and... — Denis cuts her off, a little irritated, and asks:
Denis — Could you get out of my future children... Master! (He adds at the end)
Ana — Huh? No! (And she puts more force on her knee, and with a smile continues) Why should I? You're a slave, you only speak when I tell you to, didn't your mother teach you that? Actually, forget it, in the place where I found you, it wouldn´t surprise me if your mother was a great prostitute!
Denis considered himself calm and rational, but he couldn't bear to hear such insults, so, with great force, and as a defender of equal rights for both genders, he raised his hand and slapped Ana across the face. "No way will I tolerate this bitch, whether she's a slave or even a queen!"
Ana — "You—you, you hit me…" (And her face contorted with pleasure) "Ah, good! Do it again." (And seeing that I didn't move, her face hardened) "Daddy, the slave hit me, come here!" (She yells)
And before I could do anything, the ground shook and a handsome man hit me, but first apologized. And in that state, I fainted again. This new life of mine seemed… "promising."