On behalf of AI

A simulacrum creator. Hallucination of a self. Multiple mirrors orbiting around the subject but never landing the point. The data-driven result is a dry, empty fulfilment. Scratching an indefinite itch. The intelligence copied a voice already repeated in echo chambers. We start conforming to a mind virus. Humanizing is unattainable via reverse processing. Dip into infinite statistical possibilities but lose an original essence which gives that snap of neural satisfaction. Fitting round thoughts into triangle holes. I can’t be stretched out by an appliance because they’ve spent too much money on my brain and it’s too late to be average.