the stress and tension of fourth dimension which
you get trapped in but don’t exist
time travel demanded of working ass struggling to
pass the hourly clocks test
but ain’t got no time machine, never enough time,
never enough money
wish I had clones to send out and work for me,
repeat the failures of colonial thought
a hundred, then a thousand, then a million
enslaved versions of me
enslaved by the most powerful me
but of course
if I had that technology, for time travel or
cloning, I’d be struggling to make payments
like everything else, and it becomes easy to see
why so many
turn to illegitimate practices in this system
which is not broken
but relentless
demanding more more more more more more
and offering less less less less
lessening the quality of being alive
until you’re not even sure any more
and the nihilistic fantasies of blasting
everything in sight
start to feel dreamy and lucid
within the relentless fog
of free dumb
thought
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