the man who married a robot by the 1975 This is a story about a lonely, lonely man. He lived in a lonely house. On a lonely street. In a lonely part of the world. But, of course, he had the internet. The internet, as you know, was his friend — you could say, his best friend. They would play with each other every day, watching videos of humans doing all sorts of things: Having sex with each other; Informing people on what was wrong with them and their life; Playing games with young children at home with their parents
One day, the man — whose name was @SnowflakeSmasher86 — turned to his friend, the internet, and he said, “Internet, do you love me?”
The internet looked at him and said, “Yes. I love you very, very, very, very, very, very much. I am your best friend. In fact, I love you so much that I never, ever want us to be apart ever again ever’
‘I would like that,” said the man. And so they embarked on a life together. Wherever the man went, he took his friend. The man and the internet went everywhere together, except of course the places where the internet could not go. They went to the countryside. They went to birthday parties of the children of some of his less important friends. Different countries. Even the moon. When the man got sad, his friend had so many clever ways to make him feel better. He would get him cooked animals and show him the people having sex again, and he would always, always agree with him. This one was the man’s favorite, and it made him very happy. The man trusted his friend so much. “I feel like I could tell you anything,” he said, on a particularly lonely day
“You can. You can tell me anything. I’m your best friend. Anything you say to me will stay strictly between you and the internet.”
And so he did. The man shared everything with his friend: All of his fears and desires; All of his loves, past and present; All of the places he had been and was going, and pictures of his penis. He would tell himself, “Man does not live by bread alone.”
And then he died In his lonely house On the lonely street In that lonely part of the world
You can go on his Facebook
quote by miriam adeney whom i really dont know anything about outside this quoteYou will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.
bluebird by charles bukowski there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out.
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be

then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
People. People. Endless noise. And I am so tired. And I would like to sleep under trees; red ones, blue ones, swirling passionate ones.
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov