4:59 a.m. - September 21, 2011
Digitally Nothing
This shit is going to pass, fast. We want a quick fuck and then we're done. This place is going to pass. Who told you, anybody cared? Who told you anybody would be there? Nobody is here, nothing will sustain this fake, watch this place fade.

Flash and media, give me colors, give me vain. Give me something to take me away. Do it fast, do it now. Uppers and downloads.

All of my dreams are digitized. Yet all I find are empty hollowed screens. All trying to recreate tired old scenes. Copies, among copies, nothing is real. Who said I wanted recycled trash? I find myself lost, alone, in a world that is dying.

Fire come swallow this heap, of digitized nothing.