People shout, but no one seems to listen.
People scream, but no one seems to hear.
People whisper, but everyone is shouting.
People cry, but everyone is screaming.
We are all stuck here, too busy being busy,
While slowly slipping away—
into the abyss of our decay.
Living in a trance of the little blue lights,
dissociating from ourselves and our little delights.
We don’t age; we just sit and degrade,
products of this little dark age.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 2:22 AM UTC
People shout, but no one seems to listen.
People scream, but no one seems to hear.
People whisper, but everyone is shouting.
People cry, but everyone is screaming.
We are all stuck here, too busy being busy,
While slowly slipping away—
into the abyss of our decay.
Living in a trance of the little blue lights,
dissociating from ourselves and our little delights.
We don’t age; we just sit and degrade,
products of this little dark age.
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