The Who Matrix Loop.

(Themes of suicide and substance use)

It's too easy to say "our brain hallucinates reality," let's try our brain stem on for size. TED!

The structure of your medulla oblongata is breathing the outer rim of your dominant unconscious that started in the fleshy sack of your mom and now lets you have this great chance to fuck it all up again.

Let the time loop serve you well. Find your place in the loop and you'll get some motion. Pick it up and you'll think you're finally telling a "real" story.

Again, the loop is "real" with the space that you make with it.

We're "real" in the matrix's we believe in, but yes, that is a matter of where your mind is and how it's feedback loop mirrors social structures.

So you wanna know about me?

Let pon's be pawns. Is never what the body tells me.

I am in control because I know where to hide. You'd like to think light dictates a shadow's positioning, but that's until you find where everything hides.

Your Brain. The smoke and mirrors on consciousness compensating for the sake of allowing free energy to dictate its function and maintain structure. When accounting for error, your brain relieves tolerating a smaller window of attention to let the entire loop of feedback be the awareness that we do not need to access our whole brain at once, we just need a string of patterns to connect some body and spin the chaotic loop. This is your tiny consciousness inside the whole collective bubble of your tolerated awareness.

Don't worry, I'm the bridge to your reality. Don't worry, I let what comes and goes- go and I CAN let you leave.

Just depends on what kind of free will you favor, your will or your way?

Call me the middle part of your brain stem and not your midbrain, ironically.

I'm an implanted clone that tells you how to think.

I'm the Little Green Man in Irish folklore.

I'm King's Cup's excuse for encouraging patrons to take shots of adenamide-innocence fever dreams.

I'm that weed that's got your adenosine receptors floored in the mimic cycle of, "Who are you?"

These locks with broken keys. These sleepy synaptic clefts.

I live in the mitochondria of your greatest secrets.

So it all started when the planet, whatever, got together to talk about what to do with all these people inside this box.

This society of heathens. He-them-her fuckers.

US.

This council has big brains and octopus heads. Imagine our DNA stretched to nature's outer limits, and then put some big eyes and too many limbs and tentacles. They breathe, eat, and make all choices collectively.

This society in a box didn't know entirely that they were being controlled by the Octopus aliens holding the matrix switch. Oddly, every time someone did find out they were being controlled and broke free from the Matrix, they went back, ALL of them.

Is it the "truth" that really sets people free?

Is it parentheses that can turn any writer into a condescending asshole?

There was this one champ who broke "free" of the matrix. He traced his tiny consciousness back to the moment he cellularly conceived and "broke free".

Don't worry, he didn't watch, but you might.

In that eternal moment, he detached into darkness. He was weightless, formless, and had no sensations but the shape of his soul. But it was then and only then that he realized the outer shape of everything had been condensed just like the matrix he broke "free" from into another structure, a spaceship.

The spaceship was moving so fast that its energy was everywhere all at once. A spinning orb created a base for the spaceship to dock in and a protective black hole that surrounded any viewer from seeing the spaceship from the outside looking in. He could feel the eternity of his breath move in and out of the motion that kept the black hole spinning, and the outer shape of the ships projected gravity.

The ship greeted the one who broke "free" and showed them the space it had covered in the universe. This space extended to whichever shape the black could stretch in and out of - then the shape sends whatever space doesn't fit into the eternal loop of the black hole.

"Where does everything that doesn't fit go?" They asked the spaceship.

"Into the Matrix," the Spaceship said, as they then realized everyone on the ship was a shared consciousness, that they too were seen by everyone on board.

All of their memories were no longer theirs but shared by the collective.

It was then that the "free" one chose death by breaking free from the hive mind that was the only conscious awareness in the space that was available to host and returned to the Matrix.

They are now a wonderful parent and competitive eater. They wear sweaters on Sundays and have cozy tea next to their favorite sci-fi books. It's their pet that's their favorite and gives them enough comfort, depending on the buttons that the Octopus people push.

But today is your story about how you can set free or choose to live the life in that box you've always wanted.

Because I'm pulling the switch. You see, I don't care if the touch of your world breaks from its edges. I just know I need to get past your world to break free of mine.

Me the Pons bridge in your brain.

When you take a moment and let go of its possession, you're loose for a second, right? Well, if you are, hey, hello! That's me. The ends of your heart thank you for participating in this "free" Matrix program.

Get your feet on the ground, it's fake, but don't worry. Your worries like violins on bad tunes. Come back to your senses, listen and wait...

We already know where I am in between the 2 hemispheres of your cerebleum.

Your 2nd baby brain.

Cerebellum.

There's a picture you have of yourself in your cerebellum that's pretty cute when you're not lashing out at them.

Your body, the meatsack of projected self-image.

It's how you move that lets me know where you are. It's your nervous system that tells me how your eyes, hands, and face move.

My norepinephrine and serotonin gremlins are taking the food of your mood and giving it back to you, recycled.

Point is, I was programmed to look for breath, hands, skin, and faces, all you're giving me is bull shit.

I'm a bridge, let me bridge stuff.

I lied when I said I wanted to break "free".

I'm just as scared as you.

Hold me.

Let me contro... "Who are you?" Your body asks you?