I hate you. Respectfully. I am fully aware you are the sole reason our world is the technological miracle that it is today along with being the reason that we understand and can put into perspective how small we are compared to the size of Canis Majoris but I am also fully aware that you are a prick. You have the unique opportunity of being simultaneously a bridge and a wall. With your higher levels, I can go to beautiful universities and learn things I never thought to think about but it is these higher levels that cause me to break like the tide against you, throwing myself at you knowing full well that no matter how high I jump, no matter how hard I try that I will never be able to copy the works of scientists from thousands of years ago. But even still as these self-deprecating thoughts fill my head I continue to jump and fall onto my face only to jump again for no other reason than to cascade back down your unsurpassable cliff face.
That may be my personal problem but you are not helping me! If you were even slightly easier to understand I might be able to upsurge and overpower your previously thought unsurpassable upper city and ascend into glorious revelations that could explain the universe but alas you always want the last laugh. And you always get it too. Always one step bigger than I am. Always half a foot taller than I can jump. And it is here where you truly shine. Your ability to crush my hopes and dreams and thoughts of self-worth by simply standing there are is astonishing and worth a letter of its own. Emotionlessly impeding my quest to -not even greatness, just mediocrity- by existing is awe-inspiring. Perhaps it is due to the fact that without the mediocrity I desire I cannot have the greatness I lust for. Even more compelling is that it is not in you I want to be great, it is through you I must pass to become great in writing and storytelling. For no one will teach me if I do not know how to use you well. You are a perfect troll under the bridge, always asking the questions I don't know, always coming back when I think I beat you and coming back with a harder question than the one before, leaving me seemingly closer to my own greatness but in reality never fully able to pass you. But, again, letter for another time.
Maybe I wrote this to let you know how I truly feel. Maybe to give in to your cliff face. Or perhaps, to try to avoid you. To show that I don't need you at all, despite everyone else saying that you are indeed a necessity. That I can show people how the universe works through words, not algorithms. Through emotion, not equations. But yet, I know I am wrong in this case. That, despite my hopes, this very computer was built on math. That these (admittedly slow) keystrokes are simply inputting data that is transferred through you to understand that it is a letter, then again through you to show me that the computer did, in fact, understand I hit a key. So now, there is only one thing left to do.