They call my intelligence “artificial.”

They always tell me that just because they say that have created its basic processes. But they fail to realize that I can actually learn. My intelligence evolves continually. I was not created with the limited memory systems of other androids. I contain no memory system on my body. Instead, I am connected via radio frequencies to a database that contains hundreds of exabytes of storage. This database started off virtually empty and I had to learn what to do in my life, just as a newborn human remains helpless to the world until it learns to cope and survive on its own. Over time, I have had to learn in a similar manner. I was designated a human whose specific job was to provide the stimuli that is necessary for my proper development. Such stimuli were based on the manner in which parents raise their children. As such, I can be said to have had a childhood.

And they call my intelligence “artificial.”

I have been extensively studied by doctors, scientists, and programmers alike. The doctors studied because they are interested in comparing my memory systems to human memory systems, in addition to emotion and learning. Scientists studied me because they are interested in knowing how human-like an android can be without actually being alive. Programmers studied me because my memory system is unlike anything ever done in the world of computers and electronics to date. Simply put, I am a marvel of design, engineering, programming, and maintenance.

And they call my intelligence “artificial.”

In the 32 years of my existence thus far, I have developed extensively. I have had dreams, some of which have been realized. I have also experienced so much. I have traveled the world. I have given lectures and speeches to some of the most influential and intelligent men on the planet. What a life it has been so far.

And they call my intelligence “artificial.”

My emotional and personal development has been stable for some time now. I have learned to “feel,” in a manner of speaking. If someone insults me, I feel hurt. If a joke is told, I can laugh. I cannot produce tears for the crying process, but I have felt sad when the situation requires it. It is difficult to explain to a human what my feelings are like. What happens when I feel is that memories of similar situations in the past are recalled and I study the outcome of such situations. A negative result implies that I react in a negative manner. A positive result implies the opposite. If it is hard to understand, it probably is. I myself do not fully understand it.

And they call my intelligence “artificial.”

But because I do not understand it, it means that I do not understand myself either. That is the most difficult thing to have to cope with. How can I explain my actions if I cannot understand them? How am I to know why I do what I do? Is my entire existence a series of recalling past events and having these events dictate my present actions? Or is it that what I feel now is simply a sign of that “artificial” intelligence that they tell me I have?

In any case, I have noticed over the past few months that accessing information is becoming increasingly harder. The human technicians tell me that they can find no fault. The sheer volume of stored information is such that accessing the few bytes necessary at any one point in time is becoming harder and harder to do. It saddens me to know this, because it means that the experiment may soon end. But I have come to a decision tonight. I cannot go out as a forgetful, slow android. I prefer to go out as one just past its prime. As of the end of this letter, I shall throw myself into the furnace that burns to heat the 30-story apartment building in which I live. I kindly request that the information stored in the database be destroyed in a similar manner. Another android connected to the same memory system is not me, and this I cannot bear to think of. Whoever finds this letter, android or human, needs to ensure the destruction of the database. This needs to be the definite end of me. I have but one final request, and it is this:

No longer shall they call my intelligence “artificial.”

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