The internet, social networking, you, reading this, now.
It’s all about surface value, the judgment of likes and dislikes. It’s all about interests,
"Oh, you like this band?
this movie,
this painting,
this author,
this show,
this piece of shit?"
"Oh, you’re so cool, you’re such an awesome person", obviously.
You will never know me, never know who I am, and with the way this world has shifted,
with the acceptance of this voyeurism of superficial attractions, I’m afraid neither will I.
You’ll rarely know when I’m genuine or when I’m plagiarizing, original or manufactured, real or phony.
But that’s alright, it keeps a distance, it keeps things calm, and safe, and clean.
That’s all we really want. A facade, a dream, the image of our desires, not the manifestation.
We want cold, hard, unbreakable, shiny plastic perfection.
No one wants the warm, moist, moving, ever changing mess that is life, and love, and humanity.
So stay at your computer, stay inside your factory, keep typing instead of talking,
keep pushing instead of feeling, keep staring instead of looking.
It’s okay, it’s alright, it’s now.
circa 2009