I think I am like a spring...
continuing to bounce along the walls,
so rigid, yet so unsettled and displaced.
Filled with a desire to cleanse my palate;
I must be free of this frigid, metallic taste
Although, I am more like a super computer...
analyze, process, render, and repeat.
Just cache, and proceed to overwrite;
Losing all that is learned, learning all that is lost.
Ever feel blind with perfect clarity?
But I feel most like a chair...
sitting...sitting...sitting... In the utmost honesty,
as an inanimate existence, comprehending nothing.
Standing on four legs, like some form of primeval animal;
A creature without an active intent to fight.
I'm not like pre-deceased cadavers, perpetuating empty character.
It's a feeble misconception, but don't hang a messenger.
So my question: Which are you Cain, insane, or vain?
Fuck the minds of the sane, I force instability to cauterize the vein
All alone, from a window seat, in my plain private plane.
I suppose...we all follow nature by instinct.
Simply human, with little to no complexity at our core.
It is times like these, I find even myself a bore.
Rising to soar, where any trace of intellect turns poor.
Missing the goal, but you still SCORE! Nature is such a fucking whore.
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