Excursions into the Uncanny Valley I've gone through the most of my life beneath a veil of false pretense. Imitating movement - copying response. That I've never been found out is a great mystery to me. Each time I smile I wonder why they don't just point and scream and run for their lives. Each word I speak comes out as a lie. Rehearsed each gesture and each step to the point of aristry. Am I a monster? There's not lust for blood or suffering. No atrocities, destructive needs. Just a growing void. An emotional vaccum demands no misdeeds. The few times I actually do feel, those are precious moments. Small bits of nostalgia that I force. Wounds that I poke. Painful memories that I invoke and the dying embers of love. From the cleft of Venus to the shadow of death I will walk this uncanny valley. There's an abyss between us, growing wider each day. © W.O.I.