In my dreams there are screens playing dreams
And I sit with my eyes fixed open.
It's a pathetic paradox, and a very real problem.
I sit, now, before the same hollow blue light typing it out:
I dream before a screen, I wake before one and I live in one.
The good old eight hours has been eaten by a box set,
and we like to binge upon those boxes.
It's a pathetic circle, and a very real problem.  

In this screen there a dreams framed by screens.
I sit, now, with my eyes fixed open.
It's a pathetic paradox, and a very real problem.
Tonight I will dream by its hollow blue light, watching it too.
I talk through a screen, I listen to one and taste it too.  
The good old imagination's been eaten by a box set,
and we link to binge upon those boxes.
It's a pathetic circle and a very real problem.

Screen 1 ( The Sordid Sit-Com)

Ross and Rachel prepare a meal upon the floor;
The rest of the gang arrive and feed each other
with shaking hands. It all gets to much for the
director, and he gathers the knives and forks
his cast refused to use, and gently bleeds them.

( hahaha cries the canned laughter)

Dream 1 ( Mundane Madness)

I sit before a 20 foot laptop watching series 3
of a television show I have never and will ever enjoy.
There is nothing beside me, behind me, above me
but blinding white. And I sit fixated on my boredom
and the minutia of fictional lives. I reach out to ****

but fall down in laughter