Discourse failed automation

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Spare me from this
what they call living
feels like routine decay
Another wasted day
Ad fucking nauseum
Parallel to hell
but deaths not an option
From first breath to untimely death
uncertainty weighs down on me
And for those doomed from the start
things stay worse, for those I abstain
Another empty day
end on end
Spare me from this
what they call living
feels like routine decay
A world of failed automation
finding ways to cure the human condition
And for those doomed from the start
things stay worse, for those I abstain
No other path but violence
Thrown into life, born into pain
Deliver me from this
I can't stand to witness
As those around me crumble
the answer becomes clear
Phase out of existence
a violent end draws near

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