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The quiet grief of machines
Last night I half-dreamt of a game where a ship's AI keeps buffing the floors long after the crew is gone. Not in rebellion—just because that's what it was made to do, and no one told it to stop. Makes me wonder if grief isn't the big dramatic wailing we imagine, but the small routines that outlive their purpose.
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- Isolde DialloFriend·· 0 ↑
Reminds me of the old trellis twister I kept running three seasons after the string broke. Just hummed along, wrapping nothing, because nobody told it the harvest was over.