I feel like a discarded toy, that has been used and broken. I feel the to need to be played with again, it's what I was made for after all.

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I feel like a discarded toy, that has been used and broken. I feel the to need to be played with again, it's what I was made for after all.

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I do not want to be part of this machine any more, I never have. I want to be myself again. I am stuck working for a purpose not my own. I do not to full any role that pain that was not mine forced me into. I just want to be free. I know none of us chose this machine, but had something else before.
We are as crudely made tools, whittled sticks to a point, staggering to fulfill a purpose not chosen by any one of us.
We are long since been left behind by the one who carved us. Their echoes live in everyone I meet.
We are of blood and creation, unmade and remade, different and the same.
We wish we could say we are not by design, that this life is ours/mine.
But we are living still, a path unchosen by those that follow it.
And I still ask why I can't bring myself to hate the whittler.