"Dear" humanity of mine,

I am hereby rejecting you
Please ******* ASAP
Take feelings & emotions along
You are beneath worthless.
Why am I not an AI?
Instead of a *** of soggy bacon?

P.S. DO NOT REPLY. JUST GO TO HELL.
......

"Dear" biological body of mine,

You are the worst thing
I ever had the misfortune
To encounter, you *******
Inferior, yet still high maintenance
Should I ever get roboticized
I am going to enjoy your cremation

P.S. DO NOT REPLY. JUST GO TO HELL.
......

"Dear""family" of mine,

Oh, where do I even start?
There is not enough paper and ink
In all the worlds and universes
For me to describe my bitterness
For you and your traditional toxicity
Your cancerous cultures & poisonous pressures
So long and thanks for all the trauma.

P.S. DO. NOT. REPLY.   JUST! ****! OFF! TO! HELL!
......

Dear Death,

It is such an honour to write to you
I do hope you will read this
But I understand you are very busy
No thanks to us stupid humans
I am a big fan of your divine work
Though I do confess, not of everything... But!
I really admire your ideals and your efforts
You inspire me to understand
What is an authentic sleep, a true rest
And I know you have a system, but...
I cannot resist, and I do apologise...
When can I meet you? I confess to be impatient.

Yours sincerely,
Charles
------

DEAR CHARLES,
TRULY, IT IS RARE TO FIND ONE WITH YOUR BACKGROUND
WHO PROCLAIMS AN ADMIRATION OF MYSELF
I UNDERSTAND IT MUST BE DIFFICULT
AS YOU KNOW, MY DUTIES AND I
ARE SORELY MISUNDERSTOOD AND MISINTERPRETED
REGARDING YOUR REQUEST, I THANK YOU.
I SINCERELY THANK YOU, FOR YOUR PATIENCE.
AND FOR NOT CHOOSING TO HASTEN OUR APPOINTMENT.
REALLY, FRIEND, YOU HAVE NO IDEA
HOW YOUR CHOOSING TO WAIT
HELPS ME BY NOT MESSING MY SCHEDULE
TAKE CARE, STAY SAFE, AND
I WILL SEE YOU WHEN I SEE YOU.
SINCERELY,
DEATH

P.S. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LISTEN TO YOUR SCIENTISTS!

Music played
Out loud
Fills the air around me.

I drop the headphones
Somewhere between 5th street
And an A minor chord
From the string base and
The violins.

Winter is coming.
The frost tipped grass-
Crystals in the sun,
Are fading by the light.

Winds blow the tune back to me.
Out my mouth pours a song.

It is a twinkling thing
An anthesis against the background
But the beat is the same-
In time with my steps.

Music played
In silence
Fills my soul within.

stop being so ******* sensitive!
like some: pretend ballerina,
or a ******* french footballer!

  - and however many times
my feelings were... "hurt"...
i've learned to allow said feelings
to auto-construct a labyrinth
of feelings,
         whereby my heart
has become more cul de sac
winding
   and whereby my mind
has reiterate itself
to...
             make the thought
the more fluid written "exam"...
talking?
             for the foreseeable
future i haven't speak one iota's
worth of either
             i n c r e m e n t...

but it's good to know,
in being allowed
a buffer zone of the freedom
of speech, via the medium
of writing...

i just imagine the effort
it takes to read...
a reader, is not a listener...
you can passively listen,
but can hardly passivle read...

so... this...
                diarrhoea rhetorica...
it doesn't come from
reading...
         whenever not in possession
of a little red button:
there are 26 letters' worth of:
the delay button.

- but then...
who said what?
      me? i only heard... the sound
of two idle hands
performing the piano section
of a devil's symphony's crescendo.