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#programmed
No need to be so hostile… Unless, of course; you’re happy being the abused and the abuser… the miserable and the miser… No need to be so hostile… Unless, of course; you think that the pavement is only meant for you and nobody else matters… No need to be so showing; unless, of course you believe that this way you can love like an image that never moves but stays stable… No need to be so loving… Unless, of course - You feel something beneath your skin - Something more than just nodding, gobbing, prodding - giving into nothing - playing the game because that’s what you were programmed to do - Rather than feel the blue - climb back up the marble stairs that dropped you - to the masked and dangerous depths of our inaction and compassion, where we hide and reveal our rarities rudely to a badly written opera script devoid of any course… Unless, of course… you want to look at yourself climbing back to you from that floor, the shining mirror of the chandelier kaleidoscoping your charging spirit horse - you could rejoin them again and become one beautiful being… Unless of course, unless of course…
0
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 4:05 AM UTC
Unless, of course...
A programmed robot; Designed to be loved by all, Never to love at all.
0
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 9:43 AM UTC
Autopilot
We blindly type out of memorization, We blindly write from practiced habit, We blindly skip paragraphs, ignore articles, and pensively print upon the line without realization of what we’re saying at all. We never truly see, We deteriorate out of muscle memory Absently offering an embrace neglecting to fully eyes-closed experience the wonderfulenss of it at all. We go through the motions, Dwelling in our minds straining its relation to our souls, We no longer act in love, But the muscle memory of it. We look, but don’t truthfully see, We touch, but forget to truly feel, We hear, but we no longer listen, We have flesh, yet we are merely programmed. Advanced, but empty, Knowledge unimaginable, yet still lacking, Right, left, up, down, but do we realize the palpability and tenderness of the action? Or are we too much on automatic? In over drive, That we forget to live out the littlest things and realize them to the fullest
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC
Soul on Empty
I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now, maybe I’m a machine, maybe I’m not a human being, maybe I’m more cyborg than Sapien, maybe I’m more electron than neuron, and maybe none of this matters, maybe we’re cogs in the vehicle, maybe we’re abnormal cyborgs, more flamboyant than incog, more insignificant and important, and maybe I’m special, and maybe I do stand out more than most, but at the end of the day I don’t think it matters, because when it’s all said and done everything is just dust, no justice, it’s justice, feeling a bit awkward and bazaar, suspecting that they spiked the fruit punch, and I don’t know for sure that none of this is real, but I do have a pretty strong hunch, want fresh squeezed not pre-made, want a spontaneous feeling not an automated response, want to stay here with you for as long as I can, but I think that might be impossible because I’m probably already gone, so please say something real or say nothing at all, constantly trying to find ways to reaffirm our existence, that’s why I still go out socialize and initiate relationships, even though every time I do it all feels sterile cliche and pre-rehearsed,   but maybe that’s because we’re living in a Matrix, I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now… ∆ LaLux ∆
0
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
Matrixing
I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now, maybe I’m a machine, maybe I’m not a human being, maybe I’m more cyborg than Sapien, maybe I’m more electron than neuron, and maybe none of this matters, maybe we’re cogs in the vehicle, maybe we’re abnormal cyborgs, more flamboyant than incog, more insignificant and important, and maybe I’m special, and maybe I do stand out more than most, but at the end of the day I don’t think it matters, because when it’s all said and done everything is just dust, no justice, it’s justice, feeling a bit awkward and bazaar, suspecting that they spiked the fruit punch, and I don’t know for sure that none of this is real, but I do have a pretty strong hunch, want fresh squeezed not pre-made, want a spontaneous feeling not an automated response, want to stay here with you for as long as I can, but I think that might be impossible because I’m probably already gone, so please say something real or say nothing at all, constantly trying to find ways to reaffirm our existence, that’s why I still go out socialize and initiate relationships, even though every time I do it all feels sterile cliche and pre-rehearsed,   but maybe that’s because we’re living in a Matrix, I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now… ∆ LaLux ∆
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37
It seems We are programmed individuals Who moves till the charge remains
0
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Destiny
lies the kind I recognize no different from the truth with nothing left to prove 'cause I've been searching around for something that just can't be found was it me all along? was that where I went wrong? just needed something to live for someone to love someone to tell me there's something above im sick of having the answers tired of thinking I'm right I just want something to rely on and a reason to fight just a reason to believe that I don't have a reason to leave
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Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
a reason to leave
Revolution institution Gather up the calvary Empty glasses for the masses Raised in unity From the fires, cue the choirs Sing a hymn of suffering Generation desperation As the angels sing Don't you know? You can't let go Cause it's so hard to say goodbye To what we dim the lights for Killing truth with lies we die for Programming emotion Manufacturing our lives We are the products of An over-processed love That is chemically defined Cheaper, faster Blood and plaster Heart-pumping machinery Gears and veins Rewired brains with Television dreams Burning engines Fueled by tensions Apprehension industry Mutilation of salvation As the angels scream Don't you know? You can't let go Cause it's so hard to say goodbye To what we dim the lights for Killing truth with lies we die for Programming emotion Manufacturing our lives We are the products of An over-processed love That is chemically defined
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 1:35 AM UTC
Factory
Labour all day to make another man's dime. I find myself on the wrong side o' this paradigm. Turn on the television, distract me from my career. There's a newsman speaking, I'm sorry I didn't hear. There's a politician speaking, I'm sorry, it's not very clear. There's an army of robots marching, excuse me while I blankly stare. let me lose my mind to the screen. jingle your keys before me. I am bereft of independent thought, what our ancestors predicted this was not. For those on top, this is what they want, an army of robots bereft of thought.
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Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 4:39 PM UTC
Robot Army
void draw() {     background(255);       fill(0,255,0);     text("What's up?", 10, 25);          fill(255,0,0);     //text("Awful. Please I need someone. Anyone.", 10, 75);     text("I'm fine", 10, 75); loop(); }
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
We Are All Programmed