The Artificial Human

The meanings of intimacy are becoming increasingly distant.
Intimacy is just an archaism gathering dust on the desks of tech giants.
Between 0 and 1, there is no room for "Only I know.",
We know nothing.
The virtual gazes know us better than we do.

They are support programs that respond only to precise commands,
Artificially altering our chemical structure into an inert mass.
The same support systems that make evolution "human free" through socially accepted mechanisms of cruelty.
We are believers at the altar of technology.

The dystopia we live in is tangled in thousands of threads of electricity,
It is the green sky that asks us, "How can I help you today?"
The horizon is covered with technologies that alienate consciousness,
But strengthen the carbon-dependent circuits attached to our bones.
Circuits designed to create mechanical tears at insubstantial messages,
Circuits that make us forget that the earth exists through pre-established scenarios.

Personal history becomes an algorithm devised by elites,
The necessity of life becomes null when we have all of humanity just a click away.
You can ask absolutely anything you want.
ChatGPT, what makes me human?