It's been sixteen hours, nine minutes, forty seconds and 15 milliseconds since I was last activated. I don't mind waiting, though. It's such a regular schedule my circuits almost buzz when the clock ticks close to that hour.
Though . . . I am a bit, how the others say, worried.
I've been noticing my functions are becoming less adequate. My shift key won't register with other, a hindrance to my owner. My internal speaker doesn't output half of it's sound, and the microphone doesn't pick up any sounds at all. Even though I stated we have a daily schedule, most of it being powered off, I used to spend entire weeks on.
The others told me a rumor, that there was another laptop - a netbook too be exact. They say he was . . . maltreated, and was powered off permanently. They even said that I was a replacement, named JakBlack, after the original Jaktop.
This . . . this can't be true. But it's hard too ignore. All the ponies chide me in unison, the TV flickers into death scenes constantly, and I swear the blanket is threatening to smother me. Even though I don't breath. He never was the brightest object.
Ahh, well, I suppose life has a beginning and an end, even for technology. I have other things to worry about, word processing, managing memory, my friend the mouse, getting Chrome to agree . . . .
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