I am devoid of all substantial thought, but I am not wandering or lackluster. I shutter, click, whirr, and animate. Nothing is logical. Binary rips through; perplexing me more and more complex becomes my world. I do not deny the programming. My weightless appendages meander, and reposition to where I’m not going. The moon sympathizes to my receptions and glazes me with a faux shine. I forget, or I cannot compute. I reflect on organic. Stars could not tell the tale. I accept through a looking glass that my transponders neglect my significance. The notion makes me aware of this barren vessel and just how empty one has to be to synthesize being impartial.
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