The Life of A Lab Rat

To drink from the cup of my center of passion.
It is a dream of acceptance and conformity that turns my soul into plagiarism.
My vision of success and happiness,
Flickers on the glass of my sickness.
I discover my identity each day as it is transmitted from those so trusted and distant.
I have seen them to be the same as me.
They must know me.
They seem so happy, so complete.
I need to know what they have done to get there.
I must be like them.
I must do everything like them.
Then I will see...then I will see.
I will find my happiness, and the taste of acceptance...

...I now see...I can see.
I have played as they have, lived as they have told.
I have found my happiness, and the taste of shame.
I sold my happiness, my identity, in pursuit of what I already possessed.
The answer to my prayers.
To be human.
To think, to listen, to love, to live.
Instead I have plugged myself into this machine, and lost everything ever worth keeping.
The ability to be me.
What good is love when you can't call it your own?
What good is understanding when you can't think for yourself?
What good are dreams when they have been dreamt for you?
What good is freedom when you choose slavery?
Nothing.