Feelings are what makes us inherently human. It's what differs us from the likes of Artificial Intelligence, an anomaly that makes us as imperfect as we are.
But as I wield it, I can't help but to think how useless it is to actually have feelings. Were they initially brought upon us with the desire that, in our caveman days, we would strive to reproduce? Yeah, sure. We couldn't survive without it, but as society's grown, I can't help but feel like it's a drawback--a "nerf"--of what we could actually be.
It's something we don't yet understand. It's so foreign, concentrated so in the depths of our heads, that we can't possibly measure it in quantitative values. We can only measure what it does to us, and it's so scary that there's an unmeasured force in our heads that we are constantly getting ourselves into troubles of the many.
Why can't I just do what I say? Why can't I just feel what I need to feel? If feelings are what makes us human, does it mean that we differ from inanimate objects just because we have a biased sense of judgement at all times? Is that the true meaning of living, to differ from in-sentiency--to strive and learn (and inherit prejudice) from our surroundings?
I eerily sound like Ayn Rand. I should freshen up my knowledge on her philosophy (the only thing I remember was Roark being attractive to my younger counterpart! Don't blame me--read the first few pages of The Fountainhead and you'll see for yourself :sob:)
No comments:
Post a Comment