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I'm reeejeeected. From my urban spaaace, from my time. I'm not for u anymore. I'm refused. Refused. Oh my. I m made with plastic, organic piece, old old old tree, for your pleasure. You took a shape similar to mine because I wasn't enough. No longer compliant with the new provisions. No longer compliant with the latest algorithms. Oh my. I make use of myself I put resistance on the floor to the air and I am with what is there. Substrates of patience, dust, and germs. Substrates of dented steel, burnt plastic, and pain. I am with what is there and I am closer to myself. So I can now come close to you. In the summer close the windows because the smell out there is carcinogenic, because I will be left there to burn. Oh my. Worry about me. In winter, unbutton your jacket because someone else will feel the cold. Oh my. Worry about me.