The Computationally Disappointed

s/he works on the cutting edge with eyes pasted to the screen, knowing no limits & no time constraints--- with all the funding one could possibly handle, s/he’s scrunched down in a lab at MIT or locked away in some European bunker & each day brings a moment that may of never been foreseen even a few years ago--- each step of progress towards a perfect A.I., is another in the life of a creator amongst creators, who dreams of fulfilling an electronic euphoria, be it arming the empire’s military by 2030 with a legion of new futuristic supersoldiers (to further stamp out whatever resistance is left on the planet), or whether it comes down to perfected humanoids who never age & are able to be sculpted into any living biological human’s most sexually perverse of fantasies all for the sake of ****ing, the scientist keeps her/his peddle to the metal, with a face that hardly anyone will ever know, with research that is always, for the most part, just an individual puzzle piece placed on the table for the greater plan--- and as the creation gets smarter, as the models progress, as the research extends far beyond anything imaginable, the nanorobots supposed to be available to save this scientist from dying like the rest of us, with the array of wonderful diseases, viruses, cancers & plagues available, simply are not quite ready & the years that the younger scientists have, this one does not & though s/he isn’t supposed to think about it, a jealousy fills up inside him/her because the creation which s/he is working on tirelessly, will no doubt provide technology to make others outlive him/her, or quite possibly push others into a place of cyber-immortality, after having been downloaded into the omniscient hard drive of all hard drives in the coming simulation--- and on and on, as the possibilities of the future tap him/her on the shoulder, the hours go by, which s/he’ll never get back & s/he knows all too well that s/he will die before seeing it all come to any satisfactory fruition.