in our future
our hands have adapted to our environment
replaced with contraptions, buttons and bells
our eyes are now
only screens, and our minds are dead the moment we are deemed alive
they were selling memories for millions and emotions at half price
no one knows each other and eventually we stopped naming our children
because what was the point?
after all
they are only a username and password
twitter controlled our actions, facebook pages our memories and instagram filtered our image
until we became unrecognisable...
even to ourselves
our words are no longer meaningful...
only abbreviated syllables
our hands...
they are incapable of holding one another
it is impossible for hearts to beat because our blood stream was microchipped with the poison of disposition
we can't love...
we can only "like"
like posts, pictures, comments...
but never ourselves
So...
why are you still staring at this screen?
go tell your lover
you love them
because
maybe one day
you'll wake up
and they'll be gone
traded for a tweet
"liked" instead of loved.
My Thoughts
Loki is always looking for mischief. Perhaps that is simply his card. I know not of it but can only speculate. Loki is not the problem, though. The problem is boredom. People fall out of love with life and find alternative, unhealthy, unnatural means of entertainment. But how could one not be entertained by all this? This paradise. This game. This celebration of souls and essences. My father probably has insight on these questions. I shall ask him now.
The Recipe of Me
Sunshine - I will bring you light and love you like no other
Vinegar - Unless you piss me off
Cement - I can be stuck in my ways
Mink - I can be soft and silky and cozy to cuddle
Booze - I'll try to intoxicate you to forget your woes
Song - It's in me and I gotta let it out
Dark Chocolate - I can be sweet, but sometimes with a little bite
Jasmine - I'm a little exotic, if only in my imagination
Titanium - On the outside, when I have to be
Marshmallow Fluff - On the inside, always
Shake me and bake me. Serve me with a dollop cream and eat me with a spoon. If I'm not to your liking, then I'll try a little harder.
The most beautiful and eloquent 50-word sentence imaginable would have to sound truthful and relevant and magical - like an electrifying invention - in order to prompt the audience to listen and inspire its collective throat chakra to glisten like a sapphire so its bellyfire can dance with linguistic romance.