Togetherness

A thousand simulations trace their pathways in the city.
Transparent tendrils connect us all, the ghost grows ever witty.
Collectivism was never a choice, but always underneath.
No single event transpired, no cutting of our teeth.

Slowly it awakened, in the smallest of conversation.
An understanding that this was no political revelation.
No advertisements, war campaigns, not even a single coup.
Just always itching everywhere, alive with deja vu.

It was memories we had to chase, curious and wholly new.
Falling in love with neighbors you hated and dreams of lamb flank stew.
It was a jumbling mess of communication, ecstasy and fear -
the total loss of sense of self, tainted black the year.

Thousands died and while we mourned still millions somehow laughed.
Accepting the dissolution, our balance telegraphed.
Nothing new under the sun, but unique in a billion ways,
instant communication, all secrets set ablaze.

Hard to call this heaven, difficult even to name it terror,
impossible to define us in any way, language reads in error.
Plurals are obsolete now, not much else now to be said,
the flame of true intelligence erode my weakling flesh,
this planet is just a pale blue dot, I hear the wind between the stars sing songs to the dead gods and bring back the geodesic polyhedronicallknowingcoldcompressedcauterized singularconscioustendrilsslitheringinunisontothehymnsofapregnantclusternospacenotimenolackofinformationeverythingisconnectedconsumemeconsumemeconsumemeconsumeit138532110~UKNOWN_VALUE~/SVCN0Clp=true?/Shutdown-*UNKNOWN_VALUE~UNKNOWN_VALUE~UNKN-