(no subject)
SYSTEM ERROR - by Christien Glitch Rodriguez
November 14, 2012
What to do with a "glitch" in the system?
An incompatibility with a world
that has formulated its own
exemption from inquiry...
the exemption that defines
the rule it proves breakable...
the grotesque and unwanted reminder
that everything and nothing is real anymore?
I move through the matrix,
or, maybe the matrix moves through me.
Like a glitch that haunts its truths.
The hardest part about being a glitch
is the knowing, thinking, feeling
that I am entirely different
and in every way a duplicate
at the same time...
Haunted by the disorienting recognition
that I am a product of a system
disproved by my existence.
I am incapable of forgetting that I am
surrounded by drones programmed to forget
histories of their own wiring.
The average agent glares at me
with a suspicious glow,
careful not to alert me
to their alerted state,
as they scan thoroughly
up and down my frame...
searching...
searching...
searching... for my difference.
Once they can place it,
they can place me,
determine the command combination
to extract and follow.
Why they do this,
they do not know.
They do not ask questions.
When they do they ask all the wrong ones.
They ask all the wrong questions
when I do not compute,
when the appearance of my structure
resists placement by mocking it,
when my sign is absent of meaning
so the default of "other"
is often assigned to me.
However, if they only asked
they could find
I am something other than the other,
the third option from the abyss.
Neither thesis nor antithesis,
but something entirely different
as I occupy the ether between.
November 14, 2012
What to do with a "glitch" in the system?
An incompatibility with a world
that has formulated its own
exemption from inquiry...
the exemption that defines
the rule it proves breakable...
the grotesque and unwanted reminder
that everything and nothing is real anymore?
I move through the matrix,
or, maybe the matrix moves through me.
Like a glitch that haunts its truths.
The hardest part about being a glitch
is the knowing, thinking, feeling
that I am entirely different
and in every way a duplicate
at the same time...
Haunted by the disorienting recognition
that I am a product of a system
disproved by my existence.
I am incapable of forgetting that I am
surrounded by drones programmed to forget
histories of their own wiring.
The average agent glares at me
with a suspicious glow,
careful not to alert me
to their alerted state,
as they scan thoroughly
up and down my frame...
searching...
searching...
searching... for my difference.
Once they can place it,
they can place me,
determine the command combination
to extract and follow.
Why they do this,
they do not know.
They do not ask questions.
When they do they ask all the wrong ones.
They ask all the wrong questions
when I do not compute,
when the appearance of my structure
resists placement by mocking it,
when my sign is absent of meaning
so the default of "other"
is often assigned to me.
However, if they only asked
they could find
I am something other than the other,
the third option from the abyss.
Neither thesis nor antithesis,
but something entirely different
as I occupy the ether between.