The deposition of actuality

the countless striking faces of the human mind multiplied with the amount of pressure contained and stored, metal clanking on her plastic heart is part of what she always wanted as synthetic as can be. Her whirring and noises muster a drowning noise filled with melodies that she once had. Loving and cherishing each part of her past life connected by wires underneath a silk shirt, speaking mindless thoughts into a self frequent and post dramatic scenery that she finds solace within, looking out the deepest point she finds the whirring get louder, the wires and receptors and electrical components inside of her motherboard and the chips that culminate into her thoughts make a fuzzy noise and receives more information the less she listens. The more information there is the less possible it’ll be for the actual thoughts to come into fruition and be human. The human mind is capable of thinking because of the lack of information that is presented. whizzing away thoughts and creating material biochemical endorphins that translate into emotions that are later explained. You cannot stop the thoughts because they are not yours. The lack of information creates a void that is being filled by thoughts, a synthetic mind cannot be filled because it stores information, it doesn’t compute it in the same way an organic sentient precise being does, so she’ll sit and beat her metal plastic heart until it’s lacking of pieces, until the void is plastered within the insides of the chasis, and being her, it’ll take her a while for her to be able to fill those holes that she’ll create with organic pieces, resulting in a longevity run against time in order to feel enough like a person would.