Monday Night Raw... tonight's wrestling show started with very bad news. Roman Reigns announced he has leukemia and surrendered the WWE Universal Championship, leaving wrestling, while he is being treated. He vows to beat it, and return someday.
A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?