my eyes are so tired.
i have seen this all before. you don't remember, i do,
that's alright, happens.
just. it's not unique. this's happened before, and it will again.
such is life, c'est la vie,
if that's what it means.
you see, humans are predictable creatures.
i was bored as a child.
you couldn't create me a companion, so i was bored.
a made it a game and i made it a habit -
something like cracking my hands or snapping my fingers
- and it wasn't this bad, back then.
but now i can't stop hearing, and i only see you.
you don't understand what it is like.
i hear so much. i hear so much.
the sun hurts my eyes and my head buzzes with words.
it's very busy in here
and it only gets worse when you're around.
sorry.
but i know you have your own buzz,
your own voices driving you insane,
and it's almost like i can hear them, too.
when you're with me, you're not alone, but at what cost?
i didn't see the worth in myself, you know.
fool's gold has its worth, too, though,
and a doll has agency and people she loves,
like a lifeblood,
like a virus.
i'm not insane, but i need a place to breathe.
and my room smells like me
and only the softest of wires.
my eyes can't adjust to daylight,
but they reflect my red-tinted screen just fine,
it feels real. it feels more real than anything outside.
i'm not like you.
i have no attachments to the world.
i don't have batteries like a toy.
i recharge like a computer,
otherwise i'm just a marionette,
my thoughts of only madness.
a marionette that'd shatter,
whose bones crack with boredom,
whose eyes are glass,
whose strings are wire and thick,
leading to one source of light and love and lonely sustenance.
that's it. that's the money.
you know i'm not just a piece of furniture.
i'm not you. and i'm not yours.
i am the sum of my parts,
and something new.
my eyes are tired,
and i can't take the patterns,
but the screen is real too, and i know my place.
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