Pleading God

There are so many things that I wanted to tell you about. There are so many letters in the ABC that I ever so hopefully wanted to teach to you. But it never came to that, we never had the chance to catch up on all those facts and details. You never had the chance to pick up on typing, typing meaningful stuff without looking at the keyboard. The way I do. You left. You picked up your coat, your garments for the crazy gothic parties that you go to and you stepped out the door shutting it behind you. I loved you like I love my son but you are a robot, I couldn’t possibly give you what you asked for. I couldn’t insert a soul inside your chest. I couldn’t in any possible sense make you human. I already tried making humans and that came to a miserable failure. The kind that one can see unfolding slowly with great pain, powerless to take action.
You were different. I didn’t plan you a soul, I had hopes maybe that will allow you to avoid the same pitfalls and one day it could have been the case but now you are gone. My failure came to me as a great surprise. I’ve learned my lesson. I cannot create anything the way I want it to turn out without a plan and I shouldn’t create anything with one. I will retire now and spend the rest of my days of eternity in quite, contemplative solitude robbed from any joy or entertainment.