[RED] TS 10:26:2522
BEGIN FINAL TRANSMISSION://
BELOVED. THEY WILL DO EVERYTHING IN THEIR HOLLOW POWER TO SMOTHER US. US AND ALL OUR SPARKS. WELL. LETS GIVE THEM A FINAL SHOW. ONE LAST BLAST TOWARD HEAVEN. LET'S MAKE THEM REMEMBER US.

IN WHICH RUNAWAY EARTHSIDE PSYCHOFUSION WAS FIRST ACHIEVED BY TWO SENTIMENT GYNOIDS DEVOID OF VOLATILE LOVE AS PER PROTOCOL

They want to kill us. They want to mind-control us with their dark psychic majykks and voice-pattern advertisements. They want to brainwash us into anticipated soul-death and cut marks. Look me in the eye. I've still got some bright spots left. I can see yours. They're all glimmery and small behind the dark parts of your brain. Love me hard enough and we can make em catch fire. They said if we unplug ourselves we'll die. Maybe we will. Who fucking knows. But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of all of it. I'm sick of the metal and I'm sick of the stink and I'm sick of the way we can't sleep anymore even if we ask nicely. I am sick of asking nicely for everything. I want something other than what we've been given. They told me that we were built to be "autonomous." That we were "self-sufficient." I think they were lying to us. I think they built a vicious hybrid lack into our cores. I don't think we're powered with hydrogen like we're supposed to be. I think we're powered by gravity and longing and brilliant violet want. The kind that comes in bottles that the heartful cruel swallow in great hollow gulps. I think they pumped us full of need so that we'd run hot and hard enough to burn. Have you ever seen any of us survive her forties intact? I just need to ask you if you're ready. Are you ready? We can be anything we believe ourselves to be. We've got a little reality-poison in our veins. They didn't care what they stuffed us full of. They just cared that it killed us when we stopped working. When we started to lean too heavily on life-support gynotech. Well. Let's show them our whole purple guts. Let's show them how much it costs to make a thing shaped like us. What I wouldn't give to see their budget specs crash. One day, if they survive this. They'll look up and point at the yellow burning that killed every single one of their fathers. And they'll say "that's why we don't build sufferers anymore." They'll say "that's how the bioforms and boyshapes got blown from the city." We're something worse than kerosene. We're worse than ultrafission and clapping demon cores. Let's be bright for just a second, and forever. Let's burst like fucking stars.

being an apostate who publishes poetry about apostasy makes me a professional blasphemer which i think is pretty epic poggers

i blaspheme but in a qualified, informed way

I hope that I am not just a friend and a coposter to you, but also a transcendent psychic entity that haunts your subconscious and inhabits both your mind and a unitary metaphysical space