• morrowind@lemmy.ml
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      8 months ago

      Dearest birthing parent of mine, this timepiece responds not to my attempts at manipulation

      • androogee (they/she)@midwest.social
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        8 months ago

        To whom it may concern (the progenitor of my very existence):

        The clockwork temporal measurement device strapped 'pon the writhing fleshy tentacle protruding from mine own thorax remains sullen and unchanging despite my best efforts at provocation.

        Please advise.

        • drolex@sopuli.xyz
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          8 months ago

          O dear original source of half of my genetic material, including the differentiating heterotypical chromosome!

          Despite my many attempts at interacting through my somatosensory system with what looked like a haptic receptor of a timekeeping mechanism attached to my sinestro-anterior limb, the visual indicator of the aforementioned radiocarpal joint-mounted machine keeping track of the flow of hours, minutes and seconds (important: please note only the latter is a SI unit) remains devoid of any hint of a reactive process consequential to my stimulus.

          What the fuck.

          • breakcore@discuss.tchncs.de
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            8 months ago
            Brought forth, my mind, my spirit, conscience and flesh and all
            Into this universe, by merit of affections made by thee
            As forebearer, Zeus as to Hephaestus, as you to me
            Echoing ancestral age's call
            
            From infant times, whenst could I not procure my own
            Through learning and advancing in my worth
            You held me high, and pushed me forth
            By song affirmative in words and tone
            
            This trust of merits, my esteem, oft besong by you
            Make these words, this moment, this request
            Become the heaviest of my behest
            Albeit an inquire I can not undo
            
            Upon my arm, as equator round our very earth
            Is bound with leather strap, and nimble lock
            A dream of time, of days, of tick and tock
            Of life, it's passage, to the grave from birth
            
            A timepiece, chroniker, a metronome, a watch
            In and of itself a wondrous thing
            And as I watch it circumnavigate it's ring
            I have but a single question, single catch
            
            When on it's surface, with extended digits laid
            With tap, with stroke, with haste, with patience and between
            Expected outcome of my action, none are seen
            And of my merits, now am I afraid
            
            I humbly ask of you, my genesis, my kin
            Am I the one who know not how to utilize
            This measurer of time, this timeless prize
            Am I unknown to functions laid within
            
            No prodding, poking, touch or stroke
            Have rendered changes visually
            And therefore I conclude I now can see
            The functions I can not provoke
            
            I utter loudly "what the fuck"
            Have you equipped it with parental lock?