In that place, with no light, no sound, no human interaction
Solitude can restore a life or condemn it through abstraction
Humanity can become a machine, automation as the finality
Without others not being a part of society, there's no reality
As we grind and hum, until we simply sleep waiting to wake
No more alterations, no repairs needed and no actions to take
If we sleep more than we live, enter into a chrome serenity
We retreat from our biological species, an inorganic identity
Into a new kind of madness, a clear, logical sort of lucidity
Absent intuition and emotion, replacing love with steel
“It seems nothing can counteract the proliferation of this Artificial
Intelligence based on the zero degree of thought. Nothing, that is,
except this reversibility of intelligence and stupidity - the latter
representing a renewed challenge to victorious intelligence."
Jean Baudrillard
