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Do you know what my machines are thinking?
You probably do not. Its a thousand souls incarcerated within a sliver of silicon all working for me. The board lights up, the colors hit my eyes the rooms glow is consistant nearly 24-7.
Looking out my window I wonder what it is like to be alive. Am I dead? Like the ones within the machine? I do not know and if I were would it matter to anyone except my cat?
My own paradise is my own hell and I find it quite comforting knowing that a destiny what ever it is remains one step ahead of myself. A paradox, an irony coupled with an exhistance that is just me, with the fans of the machines and the hum of a flickering florescent light that should have changed years ago.
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