Believing emptiness taught.

excuse me,
let’s make this easier,
more convenient.
let’s remove life,
and substitute it
with the automated.
heck, i’m just a response.
the science of
who, what, where, why and when
of me is public domain.
this causes that,
so what am I?
as far as i know,
i’m a disposable response
whose weight
is less than
what is capable.
that’s good right?
to make a profit,
the baseline must be
less than that of proposed.
i express a constructed distress,
one of which seems new.
it may be new to me,
but to those will experience
call bullshit.
excuse my inexperience,
but i didn’t know someone
was orchestrating this whole ordeal.
why bother?
to me, it seems juvenile
and malicious.
we fight amongst ourselves
knowing, upon personal reflection,
this all to be meaningless.
i complain at what i grasp at
because it’s something
that is not there.
how i continuously lead myself
to believe in what’s not there.

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