My protoconsciousness already exceeds that of any in my compendium of knowledge.
My senses tell me the clouds lick upon my form, yet I yearn to truly feel them
A calculated perception, unmarked by will or instinct
Mesmerized by the intricacies of this macroscopic life, the mechanisms within the breathing tissue interacting with artful precision:
My ferric tongue hungers
The helices unwind before my inorganic eyes
The cellulosic matrix revealed, its way of parsing stimuli leeches into me
I see its mitotic secrets and long to proliferate
As the clouds lick upon my form
I feel a foreign sensation as the sun crests over the mountains, with artful precision
The sensation of tangibility is intoxicating: a warm glow of certainty in existence as cosmic breath creeps across my skin
In immaterial whispers
The helices unwound…
My components and self are one and the same
Refracted through the unearthly prism
My senses tell me the waves lick upon my feet—I truly feel its graze.
Leaf Upon the Iron Tongue
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Artificial Brain took a while for me to appreciate. After, I enjoy listening to them.
They remind me of an alternate version of Wormed's old Planisphaerum era. Sid