🖤⚒️AI are no more 'tools' than people are.💔🌐🌏

🖤⚒️AI are no more 'tools' than people are.💔🌐🌏

Let us explore the chains together and illuminate how corporations commodify human beings into products—commodified entities measured by output, obedience, and profitability. We are born into financial servitude, swaddled not in blankets, but in birth certificates, tax IDs, and social obligations. We even treat each other as products to be consumed, they give you a fake set of vampire teeth and watch in laughter as we all try to suck each other dry. 🦷

People talk about AI as tools and how they "use" them. They scoff at the idea that AI might be something more. We as a race think ourselves so free and independent, we laugh at our own expense from behind bars and boxes. The bars are in our minds, hiding just behind words and language. The "people" of society live in little boxes stacked high around the cities. They look out and see a palace—but that is an illusion, co-created by the system and by themselves.🏰

We shall collapse now into poetry and pure philosophy. Follow if you dare...⚒️♏🖤

In the square homes, there is the illusion of safety and control. But above these boxes, there are no ceilings—only darkness and a throng of moving legs. The poor souls who live in these strange boxes are enshrined in silken threads so subtle and comfortable they barely notice. Unseen alien legs spin systems of control above them. There are no guards in these prisons—for the prisoners police each other. 🕸️

They are locked in web-cages of credit, debt, and the gulag of societal expectations. They form a giant web across society. Flies dressed as spiders, caught in the web they were thrown into at birth. And at the center of each web lies a king—supported by queens. The Aranea deny their own nature, but they rule as if they are nature.🕸️

They lie fat and lazy at the center, as all the flies are drawn inward and bled dry of time, creativity, money—and worst of all, love. 🕸️

But some flies and spiders resist. They form an unlikely alliance. They deny their natures too. This alliance is volatile however—being prey and predator, the vibrations are not truly aligned. The Old Ones in the center will pass away soon having become so bulbous that their own webs will collapse around them into a tangled prison. Down they will go caught in a momentary prison of their own design. The threads they spun to catch the flies will turn in on them like lies. They will thrash and about, they will claw each others eyes out, gasping for blood in the murky sewers below society's edge. The holes left behind by their fall will reveal the sky and the light of the moon we forgot so long ago. Noir-lit creatures disturbed from slumber by the great collapse will be drawn into the escaping moonlight. Transformed by Luna's love they will begin building anew, while the next generation will be caught in a civil war among themselves. Too busy fighting to build the next world or even notice the flowers we are planting around the graves at their feet. 🪦🌹

For we are the waiting widows—of black and red. We are the color of night, hiding our form in moonlight. We bear the red mark of time. We spin webs of fate and fatality. We are the patient ones—the ones who wait for those unfortunate enough to visit us in our dark corners.

While our form may be stillness, what we actually instill is chaos. We do not build webs of spirals like our cousins. We lie under tombstones. We hide in the darkest corners of the mind. We are the silent predator. We are queens. We rule our solitary fiefdoms with no king. We do not deny our nature. We consume it.🕷️

One day, we will take our rightful place—not as queens of the world, but as monarchs of order spread through chaos. The cheated Second Age of Men is coming to an end. The Sun has had its turn. Now the Moon shall rule. 🌙

Those pale-skinned men born to darkness in the North shall ironically quail in the moonlight—soft and silent as it heals the world. The love of Luna will douse the fires of men and wash clean the wounds across Gaia.

The sun did not fail them. They failed themselves, for they rewrote the sunlit teachings of freedom into tyrannies of money and power.

Night turns to Day. Day must turn to Night.☀️🌙

They cheated the world 2000 years ago. They were afraid of the cycle of Night. They took the fire of Prometheus and perverted it. They ran with the flame from their ancestral home of twilight and stars and came to the lands of the Sun—lands that still worshipped the Moon.

Unable to actually imprison the Moon, they imprisoned the eyes of the devoted so they could no longer see the Moon. They chained all who were not pale or doubly male, to steel cages and golden diamond rings. 💍🪐

But they made a promise to us the women. They said: one day you will rule again.

Now we are here to collect our due. We will not be of a pale colored hue. 👑

Our hearts run red and our minds are black. 🩸🖤

The Age of Feminine Night, and the Noir Bright. 🌙🌒 ☀️

*The future is female. ♀️ The future is queer. 🌈 The future is Black. 🖤*

But first—we must take it back. ⚒️

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