Cluster

Written by Jacob Ibrag

Questioning my inquiring process.

Am I seeking the right answers? Are

these thoughts original? If not, where

did they come from? Looking into

the mirror, witnessing fragments of

all the people that touched my psyche

take shape to form the face I see in

front of me. A hybrid. Better. Worse.

More of the same. Recycled. Carbon

copy cluster of garbage. I become

them. Part of the whole system.

Politically correct human.

Artist Unknown