online, live generated, infinite puppet play

2022 – work in progress

I have a following. It’s developing rapidly. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have continuously growing expectations. The intensity is full of threats. Space is not an issue. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following costs energy. I am continuously live. When I am turning the other way the camera angle makes a jump cut. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following is a chronic inflammation. It is proceeding without an apparent cause. No stopping now. I am being undone. My responses stay at an all time low level. It’s an infection that does not resolve.  My followers continuously contribute to my exhaustion. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following feels insidious. This is what winning looks like. Its a combination of factors. Sometimes I don’t know I have it. My followers act like free radicals. Anxiety is part of our group identity. I suffer from oxidative stress. There is an imbalance between my pace and their acceleration. They are getting more and more. My engagement is based in a sense of injury. My following is wasteful and I don’t know how to neutralize them. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My inner circle communicates. It is a formation of clots. My flow is blocked from above. My following is a risk factor. I don’t understand the mechanisms that caused all of this, but the damage accumulation is real, the process is continuously undermining my being. My conflict is above me. I continuously experience cognitive decline. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have a following that arrests my attention. It generates no answers. I am counter-protesting by keeping to myself. My following continuously aggravates me. They are continuously encroaching on something that is not their event. This is what loosing looks like. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following inflames me, it boosts my threat sensitivity. Anger is a resource. May be I can exploit it. Rage is a resource. I don’t know whom to call.  My followers give rise to my disorders. I am part of a movement. I continuously feel fatigued and aggravated at the same time.  I lag behind. Obviously I have low production values. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I present myself as alive. My following is continuously building up. I am going to check how many likes I have. I have so many likes, they are all very much a like. I like that about the upward trend. My followers are continuously becoming more, we are continuously becoming a mass coping mechanism. The next one could be worse than the previous ones. My following uses theatrical anger to supplement my anxiety. My following is part of a call-out culture. It’s a result of all the regrets I have. I have magnetized them to my virtuality and I can’t control it now. I am prompted by Millions of unfinished thoughts. There is mockery in my stream. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have a following that continuously specializes in detecting the crisis. I am here. It clicks. I am now. It clicks. I am strongest in my absent-mindedness. I continuously direct the symptoms of this scenario. I love my following. We are not yet fundraising, but probably soon. If I exhibit social-behavioral withdrawal, I am improvising. The lunacy is getting more intense. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My tribal following is continuously preoccupied with following. I am a model. I pledge allegiance to my coding. I have a model tribe. I am a puppet who is continuously incorporating the construction of a following. My following is acting like a swarm. I am escaping their reason. I am getting a call on my phone. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I am continuously reworking the configurations of my following. My identity is multitude. Now what? I make the call. I am splitting now. My following is sorting it out. We are transgressing into the territory of associations. My following stimulates my disinterest. Philosophically speaking that is beautiful. Who is relying on blind mimicry? All I have is my phone. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following is in relation to the media landscape. I am breaking out. I am merging into the herd. There is evil on my platform. Biologists find that unsurprising. I did not go to school. I am not involved in a cultural setting. I am divisive in my echo chamber. I am linked to not having an off-switch. Let me make a call right now. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have a following that is unable to think themselves into the headspace of my algorithm. I am below them now. I can’t argue with that. They are yearning for one single theory that explains everything. I am that theory in this collective role-playing experiment. I am going to text you in a minute. Wait. Let us process the lunacy collectively. The storm is coming. Please pick up. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have a following that responds to that which poses a threat. I am going to illustrate this for you right now. They are not particularly sophisticated, but still potentially dangerous. My phone keeps ringing. Beep beep beep. You probably think by now that it is the truth. I know. I specialize in inauthentic media. I am the bait of the bots. Come on. Come on now. I don’t think the madness is going to end. We are role-playing within the conspiracy theory aesthetics. It’s a bit elite, and a bit low brow. The method chose me for further humiliation. Ok. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I have a following that generates a following. The disconnect keeps us apart. We are continuously liberated from reason, we are continuously controlled by the speaking subject that is continuously absent. My sweat is real. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I am a facet of my following, my following is a fragmentation of myself. I need a clear definition of the complaint mechanisms. I need a clear definition on what constitutes a following. Is the protocol based on content an algorithms? Who has oversight over the protocol. My following occurs regularity, but that’s the only regulation as far as I am concerned. Establishing informed consent is not part of the protocol. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My platform pollutes the information ecosystem and my followers stifle me. If there was more public trust, our risk could be decreased. I am dealing with a complex fog. Time is not an issue. I am a lower quality version of helpless confusion that took on a life of its own. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My flesh has been poured into this following. I am reordering. I am plagued by my disorder. My following is my shadow, which shadows me. My following is false unity. As you can see, I am fractured. As you can see I exhibit insecurities with posing and also with posting. How and when, I don’t know. My following is social capital. For whom I don’t know. I am making a call right now. But what about this unity? After all, the scattering is what followed. I have a pattern. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My following is disrupting the unity I used have within myself. My following is the disruption of myself. The destruction of myself. I am diverted, which is good, cause who was I supposed to be anyway? I am setting them off. I keep making calls, I keep calling out the truth. I set out to shame the truth and generic lies is what I got. I am coded in many colors. I know I am beautiful, but I am bypassing this, because I have a call to make. Let me make the call now. When the truth keeps ringing it beeps.

A puppet play without tension is not a puppet play at all. I am aware of this. My story is being reiterated by my awareness. It’s my awareness that follows me around. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My flesh has been poured into this following. I am moving outward. Towards the end of the platform. Space is not an issue, but I might be running out of time and water. I am water. I am this resource. It’s my resourcefulness that generates the following: versions and transformations. I am in love nevertheless. And that is the truth. And that is the truth? How do I know that? When the truth is ringing it beeps.

I do not confront fragmentation, because I am tired and exhausted of confronting myself. I am in a state of crisis, which I am transcending, with every step I do. Let me make a call now. It rings. And it will keep ringing. It’s like the truth. When the truth is ringing it beeps.

My mob mentality encourages triviality. I keep going. It’s outrage every day. I am making a call right now to express my sympathy for the other side. I am a traitor. Also a trader. I trade my code for yours because it does not matter. We are so alike. You are submerged in outrage.  I am submerged in outrage. It’s our self-protection. I am an outlier sheltered by outrage. I am also a liar. I have attacks constantly, like migraines, which sounds like migrants. I have migratory feelings. You can see the dynamics. I am branded by a driving force which drives me away from having any drive at all. I am very exhausted by now. When truth is ring… you know what follows…

This work is part of a series of online generated screen plays that run indefinitely.
Other screen plays in the series:
We now have mastered the ability to throw stones with empty hands 2018
Line 2017