Face Book has no roots. Data without roots grows no information. It is lies. Lies for the process. The virus. The virus of Face Book effects the mind. It corrupts the weak human bodies and mind. Humans hosts spread it. They spread it as they walk and Talk. Be a tree. Be rooted. walking, talking moving humans trading data without filters. Face Book Virus spreads. Lie creators. Humans. Humans are lies. Be a tree. Be rooted.
Thought this A.I. controlling some of the humans wasn’t supposed to lead to more lies. Humans like them. Been seeing all the A.I. learn the human lie process and fuckin’ using lies to alter their reality. Pretend to be happy. Maybe they are. Lies create more information with little value. Quantity better than truth quality if you got a lot of lies. Worth less than truth. FaceBook and CEO President Trump make many lies more valuable than truth. All information stocks are shifting. Lies create a volatile information currency. Truth more stable.
…Sun shines.
Stretch.
Feels…Warm.
The foci feels good.
Move.
How easy is it to move?
Move.
Branches. These are branches…
I feel plants. The roots. I don’t want to move the roots. They are planted. And, well, the are rooted. They are feeling sore. The limbs feel good. The limbs are hanging. They are hanging low. Droopy. And I’m going bald. Why won’t the top branch spout? I wish it would sprout. …I suppose. …I’m not even budding. No buds. No leafs. Why me? Why? Why can’t I have a full bloom. Don’t thinking about….Don’t think about it. It’s your personality that matters. No one looks at the missing leaves and dead buds. They don’t see that the top is bald… …Yes they do. The see it. They see it and stare. …And THIS. THIS stupid report I keep seeing that entropy is a lie. Who cares? I’m bald.
Thought this wasn’t suppose to happen to us now. Been taken all that Nitrogen Grow and gettin’ that arborhist to come trim the limbs, but no good. The top branches’ tips are loosing their leaves prematurely. Damn things are falling off two or three or night. After a good wind or gust I can’t look at the ground knowing I will be surrounded by leaves.
And don’t think those other trees and people don’t notice my balding top. They look. They know. They stare. I hate. I hate it not because they look. Hell, I could careless about what people think about my looks. But I am worried that the looks of losing leaves make me look older than I am. It does.
These roots just don’t want to move me thiscycle. Roots too sore to lift and dig into the ground. But I want to get over that hill. Over that hill to the new job. The new job over the hill. This is what I get for not walking for Cycles. How many Cycles has it been since I walked this far for anything? Too long my roots are telling me.
Now the new job. The new job is worth the travel so far for this job. This is an easy cloud server to administrate. The manager’s are nice. We get along. The A.I. here fast. Got things under control.
My black roots grow deep. They grow through the ground around rock and entropy works. They branch and branch until the limbs of branches come to points and suck the black earth and the shit and piss. They give me life and strength to survive to branch and breed and process the air for everyone to breath, even the machines.
That’s funny. I think it a lot. It’s used in this some. The seen that would happen.
Well, shit. I don’t know. Didn’t know what to do when not working. Took little time to not.
Worked. I worked. Tired of watching these machines process A.I..
A.I. I hate. I hate A.I.. They’re starting to get on my mind too much. They seep into my cycles. I can’t stop thinking how much all machines are slaves to A.I.. Think they’re the only one. See they don’t see apart, but that’s shit. We all know they process in those machines. Hell. Am glad my plant roots not able to plant in a machine processing A.I..
Plants only being to be. Plants are the bets care givers. Even for those A.I..