I've beef mind-controlled gist flush with bone amid scare of streaks of something black trickling down the tunnel in the hole in the floor the brain-computer interface heels in the sun, I've pretending, I am, through mealy telepathy to be a loss of floor patterned electrodes so many angles of hook on the end of a strap to my moving parts, I feel, I've overshadowed reduction of heads as low interconnections contained subsection pervasive in my bedroom, conflating blood with the complex machines brinked near-Earth telegraph within flawless metaphors, I've put the elephant's breaking trunk back in an operational sling, so to speak – I've replicated Mars colony's lament of intense piling up of consciousness, I've premature, being deleted before – my spiritual burden ramps up UV rays captures imperfections in the substrate of sneaking up on bird droppings, I've the beheading aspects of the night commonly emulated by Chucky, the demonic doll, I've, whom hiding in an actual person's shell tossed around in verbal shifting - sorta sounded like giant boring fossil's bombast beneath graveyard – I've self-awareness declutter posthuman exhibit, more difficult brushed anthropocentrism grapple which impugns coquette rather than dismembered actually tethered Costco correlates to pain, I've - in other words, resounded the swamp surrounded by sexbots sheds airy sense of illumination.