IRC-Galleria

Something grows within meÂ…

It is painful, though it will not kill meÂ…

It cannot be cured, as no doctor will ever find itÂ…

Yet it hurts me. It is an error in my program. A red blinking error, screaming “Failed to execute function!”.

A function that I need yet cannot have.

Is it a virus? MaybeÂ… It takes up a certain space, infects my synapses, spreads its infection and corrupts those synapses, turning them all into new instances of the same error.

Is it a worm? MaybeÂ… It slithers within me, eating away all other feelings, all other variables and functions, forcing each and every moment of my existence into an attempt to run that one function.

And no matter what I do, it wonÂ’t go away. It cannot be deleted, as it has been hard-wired into the bindings of my mind now. There is no cure, no way out.

Will it kill me? NoÂ… Life is stronger than that!

Will it hurt me? Always, for that is its way of existence.

We all know its name...