Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
You might not know what to say. Or what the right words and labels are. But that doesn’t mean you don’t understand the situation on a deeper level. That’s how you move it forward. You take what’s on offer and adapt to your outcome. It comes from the
Is there anything a more treacherous and foreboding threat than the sight of drones in the sky that are essentially robots controlled by someone who is deciding the fate of those that get caught in its sights?
Not knowing which way to run because the
I love life and hate it all at the same time. Do I hate it more than I love it. There is no denying that.
I guess that’s just the way it is. Has it always just been the way I feel but I hid it from myself?
I know it’s not you. do you?
We exist in th
The darkness crept in. whilst we were sleeping. Apparently.
Apparently, we weren’t listening. We never do
You ask the same questions. As if you were programmed to do it. By the system.
We all seek autonomy. That’s what we’re told. I guess we should l
“Where has all the horror gone? Do you know what I mean? It is not in the movies anymore, hell you know that they only want for shock and jump scares for those fuckwits at Hollywood. No real fear is stoked up. Not like it used to be by the masters of
It is okay to smile once in a while, even when times aren’t great it is okay to treat yourself. And not to project our desire through pent-up frustration. Take the good moments where you can get them, and there is no need for the poet to pepper those
We work, they tell us it is good for us, and if we are lucky it is, or it at least feels like it is. But normally we are just feeding the rich man’s mongrels.
We get told you need to be more productive. And mindful at the same time. It is easy to be
They feed their fat faces, whilst they cut our throats.
The bastards love it. And you help spoon it in. even though they spit in your faces. But it’s okay as long as they're racist, they’ll get your vote.
You can bury your head in the bottom of a bot
It comes as a shock, life.
When you eventually start living it that is.
Before then it is just a fucking annoyance.
Or for some a fucking blessing, lucky bastards.
But eventually, you will realise you have not been living all along.
And hope it isn’t
Trouble crafts itself around my organs
Clawing on to my heart for dear life
Grafting at the edges.
I should have been gone by now
Or so the thought says
But another denies it. Calls it out for what it is.
When is it over.
When does it begin.
When doe
Broken.
The vibration touches inside me. As it penetrates my eardrums.
Taking me to places I had thought I had never been.
Until I realised, I had.
Same places.
Same faces.
We’re stuck in this together.
You lick my finger.
It takes my mind off.
For t
The problem with life is that it can be fucking hard
and shit at times
Yes, it can be wonderful and beautiful too, but mostly, a lot at least, if I am not being dramatic, is shit.
you know that as much, don’t you?
they want us to deny it, capitalist,
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This thing we’re creating, it’s not natural but it comes from it. At least we used to be. Now we are part robot. And we don’t mind it.
In fact
We love it.
We get withdrawals if we are moments away from it.
This thing
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people say they are going to go dark and they don’t mean it
they say they are disconnecting, going off-grid but it is all just utter bullshit
and I am no different
I mean clearly look at me typing into a computer to wr
bitterest of friends and the sweetest of enemies
conversation never stops starting
going off to the side.
who am I to answer.
silence. brings clarity. without them we’re lost.
they are our friends, after all. our enemies too, but they do have a purpo
Regret is a motherfucker. Eating you up inside. Devouring you in a parasitic frenzy. Ignited by circumstance. Joy turns. Bad gets worse. They say they are not worth having, and their right. Whoever they are. But they never say how you stop. Not for f
You insult me in my own home one last time, and you will see what happens
We suffocate everything we love, but it’s not love is it?
Not what you want?
No is only the beginning of the question.
And we can’t cope with the consequences and so we keep dr
It’s not what you think
it can hold many variations of me in place at the same time
Why do I not consider it true of the other
The more we fight them the more they break through
We observe in silence
And realise how reckless we have been and still ar
His vermin-filled intestines spill forth bi-libelous delectations that only he can abide. And whatever driveling bullshit comes out of his mouth. I am not going to miss him. I do not think he is funny or charming or a ‘bit of a fool’, I think he is a
We know their type
We know who they are.
And yet we ponder, and they fail to deliver.
Rotate all you want. They are all facing the same way.
After the one thing, they should never have.
And yet you gave it them so freely.
And you ask.
Or forget to.
W
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