Monday, March 5, 2007

About a Girl

That student, I tell you, he had his heart in the wrong place. A lonely person he was, living in solitude, using his imagination to create false memories of friendship. A university student, praised for his good grades, work ethic, and lack of social skills. Work is his life, and his life is for work.

But that must end, today. In class, the prettiest girl enters the room. If he can be the top of the class, why can't he just get the top in the social world? A simple proposition, he blushed at the thought; how hard could it be to converse, to small-talk. If he could climb the ranks of the ivory tower, why not the social ladder?

He got up, looking at the eyes, looking at him. He was now in the spotlight, and ascended the stairs of the auditorium to where she was settling her books. What looked like physical perfection. He approached her; his heart gave a leap.

He looked at her, unknowing how to start a conversation. She noticed quiker than he could react; which made him run down the aisle back to his seat. His heart sinking with the silent laughter of the other students. What was he to say? Why was it so hard? He failed. If life were a game, he'd probably score the lowest grade - no small-talk, no informal conversation, just a mind to get ahead.

He had excelled in the academic world through so much effort, that he no longer had time to socialize. Had his mind be more mature, he would have befriended people instead of going for the ultimate goal in one jump. He would have choosen based on personality, not on the perfection of the exterior of the meat popsicle before him.

Friday, March 2, 2007

Mass Production

Joseph looked out the window of his second floor office, happily watching people loading what his company manufactured into the truck. Ants, efficiently transporting goods, to be distributed to warehouses, then to consumers.

He peered out of his office towards his production staff, grateful of all the work that they had done for him; satisfying a multitudes of clients. They appreciated him, or so he hoped, for the job and money. But they, like him, are temporal beings. As was this building, the products on the crate outside, even the dramas currently being lived through the interactions of peoples. All worthless, to be forgotten to make place for the memory of the various media idols.

His factory, like the human population, was producting at record rates. His factory created a useful product, humans created humans. A new generation to surpass the old. But was it good to look at the human race as another result of mass production? Did it overly reduce people to just another component of a greater organism. Each company an orgasnism with people as cells.

A person, another completely replaceable part in the whole. That is, except for a few, special, that should be properly choosen. Joseph knows that he's not important enough to be remembered; but is the mass-produced population looking towards the right people?

Why was he bothering about this? He knows his place, he does what he has to do, returns to his desk, and prepares for the iteration of product specification, production, and release.