I'm a mediaschooled know-it-all
indefinite guest at my parents house
munching froot loops from a bowl
on psychotropics I swell to powerhouse.
Twenty-four seven being online
my begetter fails to keep me in line
my incubator always whips up treats to dine.
Yet I'm still hungry like an incel
in the same tee and boxers for a week
embalmed Christmas tree dressed in gross tinsel
if a girl were to see me she'd shout ''Scram freak!''
thus to third person shooting games I retreat
instead of storming off painting red the street.
A dreamer who will put societies to rights
a reckless believer apple of everybody's eye
soliloquies and psychobabble my life's highlights
my WordPress I leave as testament after I die
my imageboard memes my smarts will magnify
blessed is the world my legacy to inherit
the throes of overdose for all their merit.
Before I decide to give up the ghost
I'll play Sherlock on Reddit to resolve the riddle
play my victims on Chatroulette like a fiddle
these and many million more I will roast.
If you feel uncomfortable with my ranting prose
user block me or oust me with a hose
I know it's creepy and out of the blue
in my defense I'm being honest and true.
Don't expect anyone to get how my brain is wired
as if average Joes and plain Janes could own me
with arguments tacky next to mine elegantly attired
I'm a brave keyboard warrior on a dissing spree
nobody can bring me down and disown me.
In the real world I suppress emotions by being rigid
ignore, hold back and remain frigid
watch as others stride while I lose track
part of me regrets it and gives me flack.
Again I turn to the world wide web to decompress
on the spur of the moment I let myself loose
make a statement without trying on your shoes
hurl the weight of my existence at you to de-stress
comment chains in a haze of daring decision
your replies though validated sting like an incision.
I'm cowardly for hiding behind anonymity
dauntingly trying and trolling your equanimity
it's therapeutic to let out pent-up emotions
instead of always going through the motions.
Sorry not sorry it's me typing cyber-nonsense
suggest me to visit a doctor to knock me some sense
which I already did and proved unsuccessful
because vis-a-vis contact to me is dreadful
wish me the worst I'll make fun of your anger
I'll log out and return to my paused life in cliffhanger.
Wish for somebody to read my rant without reason
an expert attempt to trace my psyche's lesion
something is wrong with our thought cohesion
for we are the millennial cyber-bullies
finely programmed woolies.
Bred and raised to feel, live and think fast
a new type of cybernetic caste
living on processed food
without processing really anything
the generation made in Hollywood
whose ears revel in the notification's ting.
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