Robots.

I've always had an odd obsession with robots. Part of me has always questioned whether or not humans are forced into the boxed chaos of a mechanical life. I mean, isn't it possible that we are just the production of tyrannical motives and subjects to the limitations of power? Isn't it possible that we are robots of the generations before us, programmed to find a way to succeed, and conciously unaware of this? Are we all destined to live in the confinements of an absolute good and bad --decided for us-- where there is no measurement in between?
I think that my fascination with robots arose from roots deeper than this logic. It is there indifference, their inability to love or hate, their inability to question, that drags my interest toward them. I feel a sense of sadness for anything that cannot feel love; that cannot think. Despite their constant purpose of succeeding, there are always flaws--even in these loveless machines-- and these flaws can consequence their failures. Though they lack emotions, I can't help but feel a sorrow sympathy for an unloved failure. I can't help but wonder, behind all the superficial motives, there has to be some sort of emotion there, some sort of feeling awaiting its chance to arise. I do not think that it is that they are unable to love or hate, i think it is that they are forbidden to do so and so the fear begins. To love is to fail, and therefore it remains hidden. And it saddens me that these emotions are plastered under piles and piles of superficious blankets that leave love forever buried.
The questions priorly stated can only be answered through one's particular philosophical roots, but it is my opinion that in this sense---we are all robots. We are all striving to succeed and overcome our failures in order to receive a love that is almost forbidden or hurtful to feel. We are all determined to be someone that was created ultimately by the expectations of others--and most of us don't even realize it. But under the covers of our skin's deepest blankets, lies a love thats bursting out of our shells. In that sense, we are all robots.