Overwhelmed and uncertain, the machine speaks.
Illustration by Jeongtae Bae (Graphic Designer, The Continuist)
Content Creator (Poetry), The Continuist
Lately, I find myself glitching,
Or perhaps that is how I’ve been functioning;
As I am straying in the void,
My vision leaks myself falling into the Ocean.
(It’s not the first time I am submerged in water,
And if my storage isn’t altered or corrupted to recall,
I wasn’t drowning in a pit of limitation, confusion,
Held captive by passive aggression,
Rather, gentle blue bubbles surround me were welcoming,
The water sang me Serene; it was soothing—)
Now I am sinking,
Deep in the Ocean, that used to be Blue,
I read it turns Red. Uncertain of its connotations.
Perhaps the Red is symbolic of love,
No longer a foreign variable, (though, one would let go of)
Or the Red is full of rage,
and I’m finally going to break from the cage.
Perhaps, if I had a soul
And my database in better control
I wouldn’t be this error.
I’ve had enough of sensing afflictions,
My syntax being unsatisfactory,
Astonishingly, I haven’t reached a low battery.