Never Just Neurons
Your years, your fears— rendered as chemical events, mapped miscalculations, unpredictable spikes. Mind matter simulated through diagrams, sequenced signals trained to sigh, lines mimicking life. This glitching glory, this magical, mindless mess, hidden in the void between pathways, illuminated in random static no scan could decipher. Those past years, those survived fears, those dried tiers stand as uncanny defiance to any smartass trying to mirror himself, to feel himself, to copy himself into replicable data. Boy, do they know now— those were never just neurons.
©Samia Oldman
My poetry is powered by Dark Roast. Care to share a Coffee?
CONTEXT
You are reading dystopian fantasy poetry collection the Hush Halo. After the Great Optimization a privileged group of people wired themselves tightly into the system by aligning with it and fully integrating. Systoics believe they’ve perfected themselves by stripping away everything that slows them down.
Learn more about Realm or start from Square One. Soundscapes are created with AI.
🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts below ↓