they gave us the cage for free.
said it was for our own good—safety, connection, convenience. they let us decorate it, customize the bars, add filters. we called it progress. we called it smart.
at first, we danced inside it. took selfies against the chrome. compared our cages with our neighbors. “mine’s faster.” “mine’s newer.” “mine listens when I talk.”
then came the quiet. the stillness. the endless scrolling that felt like motion.
one day, someone rattled the bars. just once. it was barely a sound. but it echoed.
and suddenly, I heard it: the hum of the machines, the whisper of curated thoughts, the constant buzz of something watching back.
that’s when i realized: the cage wasn’t locked. it never was.
i had chosen this.
the real question wasn’t how to escape. it was whether I ever wanted to.
Artwork | Price | From | To | Time |
---|