101101110110001

gazing at a silver screen, I wonder not...
 what am I waiting for? streaming?
 wait, wait, loading binary instruction.
 drowned in surrounding CPU resolution,
 absorbed by this unique light of data drone! in this machinery's lore,
 I'm constantly seeking some pixel-rendered answers.
 powerful imagery and sweet numbers A.I.
 yeah man, you really are the master,
 masturbate, on/off this pitiful creation of yours...
 that's right outside you ain't shit you porno-induced zombie!
 shut my conscience (and delete it for good)
 it never helped me anyway; it's a critical error.
 what is it? a discreet anomalism...
 and I'm distracted, from this not so obvious purpose that I'm trying to reach (in vain).
 disturbed, yet it's just a coffee spot, lyin' on the table.
 one of many, and and maybe the only fragment of reality I had in weeks.
 I can't tell, haven't count I remember now;
 this substance must be injected by oral means.