i think i am already dead.

maybe you are too.

drifting between states

of horror and hope,

fucked up and spinning

in this divine ruse.

tell me, what’s it like? pretending to exist.

is there salvation in the performative,

existential grid?

every upload, a hail mary, let there be life, proof.

isn’t it funny, how we make believe importance,

dress up existence in costume.

into nothing we cast what is,

then in ceremony,

we consume.

thou shalt deliver us, in simulation.

eternal life through the perpetual new.

ashes fall from the heavens.

the sky, bleeds red.

heads bow to the will of threshold

i think i am already dead.