The machine works,

ruthlessly,

the cogs grind me yet further,

marginalized

and screwed over

on a whole nother level.

Bureaucracy discriminates

illogically,

pedantically,

and with extreme fucking prejudice.

Bit by bit they are taking things away,

pieces of myself

being trashed.

Perhaps tomorrow I will simply disappear,

it seems to be what the system wants.

… My obliteration.

He sees his neighbours “getting on” with ease and wonders. He despairs at his lot.

What next for the man-child?

Suicide?

That’s what they want, indeed:

another fucked-up statistic to fuel the machine,

money,

corruption,

news cycle,

policy.

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