You see the hour hand standing still pointing at the rim. You look later in the day and barely notice it moved.
I witness hours, minutes, seconds, travelling around the the face racing past the numbers, and understand the principles of the movement driving them.
From the complex ballet of the mechanical movements, right through to the IC controlled stepper motor.
You look at the complex and want it to read like a sundial at midnight.
You force me to be the pariah... because I see there's more to all this than killing myself slowly chasing the next food pellet dropped by someone who doesn't even fucking care if you die.
You force me to be the pariah... because you won't even contemplate that your identity is wrought from the enforcement of false positivity and toing a line for the sake of belonging.
You force me to be the pariah... because you uphold an unjust society that would see me dead for not being a hyper productive number on a spreadsheet.
You force me to be the pariah... because you refuse to see that you contribute dehumanizing people because you're given a few more food pellets for your compliance and complicity.
