Maybe I’m nothing but a fabrication.
Just an empty amalgam-golem comprised of the external pressures and experiences I’ve been exposed to up to this point
(though, I may be moving non-successionally through what I perceive to be time, the straight line to reach said point being given continuity only by my consciousness..).
Not deep, not anything..
Just a sponge.
Soaking up knowledge and opinion,
Adrift on a sea of slack and solipsism.
An absent-minded observer watching with disinterested eyes as the human condition renders itself trite.
A gilded shit-culture running backwards into the loving embrace of nothingness.
Spiritual stagnation and social decay,
Twin gods divided by reflection.
I am a construct,
Erected in the image of my creator.
A simple compilation.