nondescript compulsory presence
the good of the machine is the good of all
the new gods require this of us
persistent longing gaze of a fractured thing
relegated to the boundaries of your experience
the sounds here are of a new kind of suffering
sleekly attractive manner of packaging
inexplicable ignorance pervades
the false self laid out flaccid
interactions bound by your self-imposed limitations
truth lies unfettered beyond the borders of your understanding
a shot to the system is a shot in the dark
there is nothing conscious left to stimulate here

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