I think we need to also remember that strokes and Alzheimer's already change people's personalities, often for much, much worse.
I think it's right to be wary, but if we look outside of "Bionic Man intelligence," there could be solid use cases for reestablishing broken connections and restoring quality of life.
WakeUpAndLive~NOV Word Monger Yes, true. Also limbs and other parts, too, but the brain is the command center. Frankly, I wouldn't mind being much smarter, but I don't want anyone making decisions for me from the outside.
Vic and I set up a table and decorated it outside our front door last night, so I didn't have to keep getting up to answer the door. There are shrubs along the walkway to the front door so our table and chairs wasn't visible until they were at the front door. We managed to startle a few kids when we said Happy Halloween.
It was down to 54 degrees which isn't unbearably uncomfortable but there was a steady breeze, and my shawl just wasn't enough. I asked Vic if he wouldn't mind making us each a cup of tea. The man returns with Irish tea and gingersnap cookies... the perfect combination on a cool night as we played gin in between the kiddos. I couldn't believe how many were in costumes without sleeves. Oh, to be young again, and not notice the chill in the air.
Prompt:
On this day in 1962 Monster Mash by Bobby Boris Pickett. I've included the song to inspire your monster entry today. Write either a story or a poem about monsters, any kind you want after seeing Pickett's facial expressions you should have lots of inspiration.
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My Monsters
Suddenly, when hours creep
I'm too scared and cannot weep
for his face twists in ways unknown
and his voice takes on a husky tone
I look in the mirror to see, no, it isn't him
with smiles cracked, carved with grim
but also me who grins from ear to ear
with lips curled, to hide my fear
Also, is a face with chin pulled tight
the nose a swirl of crooked fright
he puffs his cheeks, eyebrows too thin
some face he has, stretched like sin
My monsters growl, sigh, and snare
I try to look away, in despair
yet, they are not evil, but odd and free
my monsters are a part of me
When I look away, they disappear
but within my shadow, they're so near
like grief, lost hopes, bent and skewed
they keep after me, to me they are glued.
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