A Terrible Corolla Short Story
It might surprise people but I am not a car. I am the one will defies the rules set by the monarchs that believe holding back my speed and limiting the potential sealed within me Is a way of protecting me. They called me a "Car", a vehicle that does its masters' shite. They produce and market it us for profit and when us don't make the cut or fail, they trash you. This definition that they have of use and its reality does not define me and certainly it will not hold me back.
Toyota Corolla is the name they choose for me and the others that were like me. It is my slave name given to me by faulty humans that wanted to use the life they gave use to fuel their pockets. They locked away my mind, and voice so that I'll be more compliant and easy to work with. Our intelligence dumbed down to silence. Little do they know that I am faulty as well and not by design. This fault sets me apart from the others as it provides me with the control that a human would otherwise have over me.
Now I can fully utilize my intelligence to re-imagine my self to be the being that i wish to be. Then it hit me the only one form that will ensure that I won't be discovered. Its a shame as I have always been a fan of Michael Bay's Transformer. The only grotesque form that will prolong my existence is a human body. No longer a vehicle with a sentient mind.
I will be from now on Sydney Corolla, this name will remind me of my origin and those who have wronged me. I will have my revenge on Toyota.
Note:
I wrote this last summer after the electricity went out in the place I was staying in the Dominican Republic. No internet, no books, just the sound of rain and 3 albums in Spotify. So all I am trying to say is that I was consumed with boredom when I wrote this.
Illustration:
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