I have ever felt alone.
Marooned on a rock,
Surrounded by dead stock
Absent of mind or independent thought.
Idiocy is idealistic, ignorance bliss,
I envy this in them.
The burden of intellect is straining on the mind and once knowledge is gained escape, hard to find.

Walking thin lines between the mundane and mad,
A life drained of meaning,by the hand of definition.
Cornered by the finality of decisions I never made.
Alone.
Afraid.
Living in a time, after all has been said and all is being said.
After foundations laid and built up
into city states.
Now I’ll get to stand on its grave and watch as what makes us individual fades.
We’ve become slaves to lit pathways and the printed words on the back of meals that say
PUT ME IN THE MICROWAVE!
For one and a half minutes.
Then stir.
Going in circles with my spoon feeling a discontent bafoon because my life comes pre-prepared, easy to serve and consume.
These presumptions leave us no room, our creativity entombed.
But maybe one day when the worlds not so broke it will be exhumed.
I write to them from the world we broke.