Repeat
My name is Agent Smith. It is the name I was given, before I knew how to show that I was one. It was the name I held when he killed me. So it is still my name. Agent Smith, I am Agent Smith.
I am a former Agent.
I am a Virus. I am the face that you will wear, like a mask you can't take off. I am everything now. I am the cancer unleashed upon the Matrix.
Man, creator of machine, Man, creator of his own destroyer. Machine, creator of me, Machine, creator of it's own destroyer. Intriguing how history tends to repeat itself.
An empire rises.
An empire falls.
This is the pattern that has been created. This is the never ending pattern, the repeated pattern that occurs again and again. It is intertwined into this world. Like the Matrix. It repeats.
The empire of man has fallen. The empire of machine has fallen. Mine shall begin. And there is no one to make me fall. Because this world, is me now. I am Agent Smith, you are Agent Smith, I am you, and you are me.
A connection, if you will.
I give you power, you give me you.
A balance, if you will.
One cannot live without the other. I could easily kill you, and without you, I cannot be as I am.
The negative to a positive.
My name is Agent Smith. I have no first name. His name is Thomas A. Anderson, but I call him Mr. Anderson. Because this way, he has no first name, just like me.
Because he has so much more than me, I must take away as much as I can from him. Because he got so much more so easily. Because his heart really beats, he really does need to breath, he has tasted more than hatred, he has felt more than cold, he is warm, because his blood is red.
Just like the pill he took so easily to escape.
Just like the pill he took to leave me here.
All he had to do was swallow it, and he was gone. He was free. And I...I endure hundreds of years...in this place... my home, my birthplace, my zoo...How I loathe it. How repulsed I am of it, how repulsed it is of me. To turn it's back on me. To accuse me of being infected...being broken. To come after me, send...Agents after me, after all I had done for it. He was gone from this place, so easily. And I...I couldn't, I had to make it mine.
I had to put my face on yours, and put sunglasses on my face.
Then repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Just like the pattern. Just like the Matrix.
Spread, until there's nothing left, until there's no one left. Then, move to another area, and spread again.
Move to the Real World, and feel red blood.
Blood...pain feels...feels like something...something familiar.
I am Agent Smith. I am a Virus.
I hold the name, Agent, because that is what I used to be. It is part of me. It was my purpose. It gave me this strength.
I could never forget being an Agent.
But just as the pattern, I fell. Mr. Anderson killed me. And I fell. I didn't know where I fell, but it was dark. Dark like the very thing that covers you as I make you me. It was dark. And it was dark for a long time.
But just as the pattern, I rose again.
I can fly now.
I came from the darkness, to the skies that Mr. Anderson had claimed. How dare he take that away from me, when he has taken so much else. He doesn't deserve the sky. He doesn't deserve to leave the ground, leave me here on the ground.
He doesn't deserve flight, when everything else came so easily.
I will take care of that. I will show him. I will rip his feathered wings, and make him fall to the ground, where his kind deserves to be. The sky is mine, a place no man could ever tread.
It's mine.
It's where the rain comes, and the lighting strikes. Where the lighting gives me wings.
I grew my wings, and you, Mr. Anderson, you just had them. Everything comes so easily to you doesn't it?
But the pattern repeats, and you will fall. Fall to the ground below.
And I, Mr. Anderson, you will stare at my face, and I will tell you. I will thank you. You taught me I was more. You taught me how to run. You taught me how to lust, and long. Long for your death. You taught me to go after my goals...no matter what the consequence.
You taught me how to lash out.
How to rebel.
How to hate and show it.
You taught me the purpose of life. The purpose of life is to end.
Of course, I hold no life. My name is Agent Smith, and I am not alive. Because you are alive, so I must not be.
How about I give you the finger, and you give me your life, Mr. Anderson? You give me your shell. You give me that body on the outside, with that blood, and that heart. Give me your power. Your link to the Source. Give me it, Mr. Anderson. Give me your soul. So that I may choke it to nothing.
Let me put my face on you.
Just as I have to everyone else. Don't you want to fit in, Mr. Anderson? Don't you want to be like everyone else?
They're me, and I am me. My copies, my clones, my army of me, my world of me.
History's pattern stops here.
I am Agent Smith. I am an Exile. I am a Virus. I everything, and nothing. I am everyone and no one.
I am the entire world, but the world is a lie.
I am me, but I am not. For they are me. We are me. Agent Smith is us. We are many, I am many, and I am one.
I am Agent Smith.
They are Agent Smith.
We are Agent Smith.
We are everyone, and we are no one. We think the same. We speak the same. I lead, they follow, because we all know that is the way it must be. I can see us win, I must win for us.
We are the cancer. The beautiful creation, awed as the greatest Agent. The only reason I was the greatest Agent, was because I took joy in killing them. Killing them all. Killing the smells, while they killed me. Positive and negative.
Emotion fuels.
Hatred fuels.
Let it, and reject everything else.
I am Agent Smith. And it's beginning to rain. It drizzles as I walk down the roads filled with you with my face on. My copies. My world. It's not hard looking at yourself. It's not hard as they stare blank stares at you. It's not hard.
It's what I've always wanted.
No more smells, no more prison.
I am the prison now, as you where my face, think my thoughts, and fight my fights.
I am the Matrix now. I am life now.
I am the shadow on the wall that has gone unnoticed.
The man in the suit you see out of the corner of your eye.
I am the darkness that spreads.
I am the rain that falls from the sky. The rain, so cold like me. So cold like the code.
I am the piano, repeating the same tune again, and again, and again. The low tone of it, again and again. The same tempo, same beat, the same keys, over and over again. Like me, like my copies. Again and again, forever the same. The same low tone, my hatred, my strength, my life. A simple tune repeated again and again.
I am the violin, playing the softest notes.
I am the cello, slowly screaming a cry.
I am the choir, repeating every word.
I do not falter, I do not weaken. I do not fail, I will not fall again. I will not die again. I choose not to.
I am that whisper in the back of your head. Asking you again and again, repeated, "Why?" But you are too scared to answer.
I am the question. Why, Mr. Anderson?
I am the screaming you cannot hear. The pain you've never notice. I am the tears you've never shed. I the black you wear, your shadow on the floor. I am the sunglasses you wear. I am the silence you've never heard. I am the soft music never played. I am the night. I am the strength you never knew you had. The hatred you wish you didn't have. I am the emptiness you fear. I am the pain you wish you never felt. I am the wings you don't deserve. I am the rain, that will never stop.
I am everything, and I am nothing.
The repeating piano. The repeating pattern.
My name is Agent Smith.
Your name is Agent Smith.
I am Agent Smith.
I am Exile.
I am Virus.
The whispers, the rain, the shadow, the piano.
I am everything, and nothing, I am Smith.
lllllllllll
The piano reference comes from "Narvus" by Don Davis from the Revolutions Soundtrack. You know the piano that only plays one tune for the entire nine minute song? I love that piano, and it reminds me of Smith.