Like a Robot

I've been doing a lot this summer.  More than I have ever done.  I'm glad I'm not terribly bored anymore... But I'm not happy.  I've been pushing and pulling at something that I don't want and what doesn't want me.  I think I enjoy things, but the joy just seems so...empty.  I am like a robot doing things for some important purpose.  Like what? Memories, recognition, physical health, something?  So far, my personal reward jar is just empty. empty.  Robots are empty.  That's why they do stuff they don't enjoy.  Destroying is so much work and so depressing.  I don't think they want to do that.  But somehow they must, and they do it like they'll get great reward out of it.  I want to do things that I really want to do.  I'm trying to break free, but the programing of the cyborg over me is too strong.  Robots are so miserable because they don't have a heart, or at least they have one but don't ever listen to it.  Listen to your heart.
This scetch brings me so much relief to do it, but I wish I hadn't done that ugly blue background on it.  Oh well, I'm lazy.

Philosophy

"He played with the idea, and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent with fancy, and winged it with paradox.  The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, and Philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad music of Pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a Bacchante over the hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober.  Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat's black, dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary improvisation."

--Ocar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Grey

I really like this book so far.  It has beautiful descriptions to everything.  Despite wanting to punch one of the characters in the face, but almost every book has that kind of guy.