Why do these things exist-
These vices of our own invention?
To numb the mind,
To numb the soul,
In these black emulations,
Or to step outside and truly live,
To be vulnerable in the wild dangers of risk-
Beating from the arteries of the unprecedented freedom from circumstance,
To live truly,
Or to die within simulation,
That is the question of the twenty first century,
And I am stuck in between a choice,
So with shaking fingers I sew my eyes shut from it all and think,
"Thank God it's not 2 P.M. yet."
If you've ever fallen backwards in front a television you aren't watching,
You know exactly what I'm talking about