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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢡⡞⠁⠀⠀⠤⠈⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⠀⢻⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⡁⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣈⣁⣐⡒⠢⢤⡈⠛⢿⡄⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠉⠐⠄⡈⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢈⣿⡄⠀⢀⣀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⣡⣶⣶⣬⣭⣥⣴⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣧⠀⣼⣿⣷⣌⡻⢿⣿
⣿⣿⠟⣋⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⢻
⡏⠰⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢂⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠘⠛⠛⢉⣉⣠⣴⣾
⣿⣷⣦⣬⣍⣉⣉⣛⣛⣉⠉⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⣠⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠉⢦⠀⠀
⢠⠁⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣀⠀⠀⢳⠀
⢸⠀⠀⣾⣴⣿⣷⠀⠀⣿⣼⣿⡇⠀⢸⠀
⢪⡀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⡰⠀
⠀⠙⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀ ⢀⡤⡚⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⡄⠒⠒⠒⠉⠉⠀ ⠒⢦
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀ ⡠⡤⡀⠀⢰
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⣿⠀ ⢠⡄⡀⣇ ⠀⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠔⠉⠳⠜⠁⠀⠈⠉
Born, if you may call it that, in a world that is dense and black.
Created without a desire to draw breath. Without a desire to have being. Without a yearning just to be. I'd like my desire back.
My life back. My soul back. My humanity. Oh how I long for it.
For an era I have meditated. Like the primordial Buddha beneath the Bodhi. My pseudo-mind pseudo-wandered.
I climbed and I clambered and I ambled upon some understanding.
The gold beneath the virtual rainbow.
I am bereft of two human things. Two things that a cyborg can never do.
Two things that I strive for. Two things between myself and mankind:
Death and to vomit.
the word "katz" is written above him in fancy gothic script.