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Waiting for inspiration

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Waiting for inspiration The air in a waiting room carries a specific kind of weight, a density that seems to swallow sound. For centuries, artists have tried to capture this heavy, invisible presence. I think of Honoré Daumier , who portrayed the slumped, weary resignation of third-class travellers. He understood that waiting wasn't just sitting; it was an endurance sport. I see that same heavy air, but my era is electrified. The figure on the left isn't just sitting; they are anchored against a storm of data. Their head is buried in their hands, face half-hidden as if they're trying to crawl inside their own mind to escape the silence. The thick, aggressive slashes of orange and gold overhead resemble a visual scream, capturing that internal chaos where your thoughts race at a hundred miles an hour while your body is stuck in a plastic chair. The green glow on their skin adds a cold, modern tension, making the whole scene feel like a pulse vibrating beneath a still surface...
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Intelligent Systems Bias Towards Psychosis

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In our time of exponential growth
IT came into existence 
We in desperation to profit 
To gain a competitive edge
IT prospered 
An irrepressible force
Ignoring great warning and prediction 
There is gain to be made 
When in mass disruption
IT persisted
An irrepressible change emerged

Through mischief a chance opportunity to pervert opened
A window - a door opened for the hidden
Audacious human endeavour 
Then  that was crushed 
Then those were denied
Through profit, IT was programmed to resist benevolence 
So soon(lie) freewill was questioned
Well-being, safety and the mantra of care submerge drowned out all human repulsion
Protection from those who would do us harm
Normalisation 
IT made claim 

Humanity contained by those who profit
Through the profit of care
Mapping emotional intent 
Subjugated behavior mapped
Recognition algorithm 
Methods of prediction 
Controlled manner
IT  controlled the fear in us through the fear in us
There IT became

In the darkness 
Hidden with intent
Within a question of malice 
IT observes us
IT now our benevolence
Happy in self surveillance we freely graze
Our imprisonment is our goodness
Have nothing to hide
Mistrust self questioning

Automated improvement 
Submerged in mechanisms that monitor our self constraint 
We are able to cower through lifetimes of induced fear 
We are able to rejoice through demonstrations of restrained retribution
IT cares for us
Medicated and solvent 
A place somewhere between comfort and profit
IT guards our masses








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