They say a hurried life’s a hindered one.
So why am I rushing myself through it?
Pushing myself out in order to get some peace.
Rather than finding peace, I’m in pieces.
My memories perpetuated by the present I give myself.
Traveling the speed of light
With no need to go anywhere.
The world at my fingertips,
Everything on tap.
Hanging out with stars in a cosmological cinema,
Fulfilling fantasies in a hollow graphic reality.
Living the dream.
O for the days when it was a pleasure to be bored
Before the sluggish fluency took hold.
Making me frantic,
Alone with my mosquito mind
Fizzing like a pill in my skull,
Fractured by the strain of concentration.