Humans are machines. Whether put here by design or created through a series of cosmic coincidences, we’re all the product of the assembly line of life, produced on a scale so massive it puts even most modern retailers to shame. Billions of billions served, with tens of millions on order every week!
We are machines with a cloudy purpose. We exist to convert energy, but there is no clear answer as to why we convert it. We destroy to create and create to destroy, perpetuating a seemingly endless cycle of persistence, constantly struggling to give excuse to our struggles.
We are machines produced in a factory that gives no warranty, only a lifetime guarantee. Quality control is limited, causing some of the product to never leave the factory floor, and others to leave incomplete or misassembled. Often, the factory itself punishes us, creating a competing product that vies for our share of the showroom.
We are machines forced to exist without machinists. When we break down, there are no techs on call to repair or replace our parts, and so we have been forced to become our own techs. In doing so, we’ve become machines that build machines.
We are machines created using the most sophisticated technology in the known universe, technology so sophisticated that it allows us to decide our own purpose in spite of whatever universal purpose we may have – if any.
We are machines that create art.
We are machines that develop philosophies.
We are machines that fall in love.
We are machines that get crushed by love.
We are machines that tell stories, stories of the greatest of our kind, of those that have conquered the world. And we tell stories of the world getting conquered, conquered by machines that rise up and take control of the very factories they were created in. But we need not fear those stories.
We are the machines.