Who are they to condemn (post)humanity –
An institution of life beyond the keyboard, beyond the flesh?
What circuitous madness do those of “naturalist” ideals
adhere to without revealing their sadistic contentment
for those who choose the contrary?
How did we get here?
Who are we to become?
What are we to become?
These questions lie dormant in my head next to the chip implant.
Oh, what a sweet irony it is.
To think that I'd be condemned to a life of “destitute” and
“confusion”, despite my intransient transformation.
At least that is what they claim to be doing.
But then my condemnation does nothing to me
in the physical sense.
Not even in the digital sense.
I am forever linked beyond reality,
Beyond what we'd consider “normal” just a few short years ago.
Luddite picket demonstrations become the new hate mail,
To which I simply click and drag to the recycle bin, per se.
They think – they believe – that our species
is in danger of extinction.
They're correct.
But then it's hardly new in history.
Today's h*mo sapien was yesteryear's h*mo neanderthalensis.
So yes, our extinction is nigh, but then so is birth –
the birth of h*mo evolutis.
A species born from the knowledge of its
predecessors via advanced technology.
But then the questions remain, despite their
encoded history being recycled.
If only a simple answer could be provided –
An answer that is powerful enough to transcend the biasness
which gives birth to our new age segregation,
Just as we've transcended our biological limitations,
No thanks to natural selection.
Maybe there is a simple answer,
Neither direct nor indirect, but one sufficient
enough to keep me going.
An answer that embodies the entire network that I call my life.
What is this answer?
*transmits to H+ circles*
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