Not that my brain is currently malfunctioning. But i am a bit worried that despite all the mechanical works this three-pound raw-meat motor has been doin, from breathing stimulation to blood transportation to protein traffic and all the chemistry and electricity it has been made to function, it has taken a halt into processing other thoughts than the superhero. Motor malfunction? Needs a rewinding?
Our brain is made up of entirely raw meat. One cubic centimeter of it contains ten billion bits of information, processed at five thousand bits a second. It contains all the information gathered over a period of time. The aroma of a freshly-brewed coffee, the stale oozing smell of the Japanese expats, the specific gravity of SKD61 metal, the face of the superhero when we first caught a glimpse at each other, the history of manila, the points of discussion of Koran and Holy bible, the pills that i take, how to drive my car, the songs of happiness and everything i do and will do that will pass through this lump. It is the most mysterious thing on earth.
I hate the idea that despite its general design of process information, it is now operating on a loose consensus, strategically working only on the projections of my heartbeats.
Sigh.
Maybe a peanut will do.
At least the happy one.
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