I'm staring at the same pages.
Wishing they were bank statements.
We search for truth and when we do we find nothing but blank faces.
The facts are changing
feelins stay the same.
Can't say that's bad cause looking back, time
moves straight less we make a path.
But, you've seen, you get it.
too apathetic to care about shit as pathetic as our wellbeing.
Why see the beauty of the world,
there's shooting to be done, damn.
I want this horror movie gone
About the Creator
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.