source: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/dopamine-formula-person-woman-4646236/

Powdered parcels of potentiated particles pulse through the physique.
The neurons aglow, an ideological Christmas tree.
This reward that currency did afford, a manifestation of mystique.
One purchase, one product, one store, and one feels free.

Binary bits and blocks blanket the biosphere of the brain,
The data, secondhand, the digital escapes the digits,
Http is me, 64 bit sequences sequence us, algorithms to train.
The individual left with a case of the fidgets.

Lookup loss, the logical licentiousness lingers; a lurid limerick.
My truth is the truth, so say the purveyors of truth.
What say the vendors of dismay, perhaps we are born for the prick.
The waters of another's will; will we be seated in the dunking booth?

Meaning means mounds of monoculture, meandering markedly into our morphology.
But are we not unique, individuals insistent upon individuation?
This state of affairs, the state that ensnares, is ingrained in biology.
The product, the producer, the partisan: the peddlers of infatuation.

What a rush.
An ideological thrush.

Novococaine sets the refrain.
Novacocaine to ease the pain.