The Slave Rhythm

Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Again. Again. Again. Wake up, clock in, put the body in the system, coffee in the bloodstream, numbers in the vision. Move fast, stay useful, don't question the position, every little dopamine another transmission. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. I don't need a master when the rhythm lives inside me. I don't need a prison when the door is always open. I don't need a whip when the deadline knows my name. I don't need to run— I just need to keep the pace. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Round and round until the human disappears. Train the body, train the brain, train the hunger, train the pain. Optimize the morning, optimize the night, optimize the hours until nothing feels alive. Metrics on the screen. Metrics in my head. Every minute monetized. Every dream in debt. Working. Training. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. [BREAK THIS] Breathe in. Breathe out. Log in. Burn out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Log in. Burn out. Working. Training. Working. Training. Working. Training. Smoke. Repeat. Smoke. Repeat. Smoke... Maybe I'm not tired. Maybe I'm programmed. Maybe the exhaustion is the proof that it's working. Maybe freedom is just another product. Maybe rest is another performance. Maybe I forgot what I wanted before they taught me what I needed. Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working! Training! Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. Working! Training! Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. WORKING! TRAINING! Smoking weed to keep the slave rhythm. [GET OUT] Working. Training. Working. Training. Working. Training. No master. No freedom. Just rhythm. Just rhythm.