Why, Mr. Anderson
Why, Mr. Anderson Why, why Why do you do it Why, why get up Why keep fighting Do you believe you re for something For more than your survival Can you tell me what it is Do you even know Is it freedom Or truth Perhaps peace Could it be for love Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can t win. It s pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson Why Why do you persist Neo: Because I choose to.
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