Another Brick On Your Facebook Wall
So there's this box, see - where all of my friends live. It's a magic box that acts like a window and when I look through this window I don't feel lonely anymore... at least, that's what I keep telling myself. In truth, it doesn't do anything for me. It's not real. None of this is real. This "window" is really a wall - a wall that shoots pretty colors at me, and it's taken over my life.
In fact, over the past 12 months, I think it's safe to say that I've spent more than 95% of my time either sleeping or staring at the godforsaken colors on this godforsaken wall that comes with the fucking box - just hoping, praying, that it'll eventually fucking mean something to me some day.
I'm addicted, like to a fucking drug, and lusting after a goddamn memory of a time where this fucking WALL hadn't replaced MY FRIENDS and EVERYONE I LOVED - and I JUST now realized how fucking pathetic this is.
Fuck this box.
Fuck this wall.
Fuck the fact that I don't think I'll have anything once I leave this plastic synthetic world behind. I'd rather die than cling to these plastic people. Where are my REAL fucking friends???
In fact, over the past 12 months, I think it's safe to say that I've spent more than 95% of my time either sleeping or staring at the godforsaken colors on this godforsaken wall that comes with the fucking box - just hoping, praying, that it'll eventually fucking mean something to me some day.
I'm addicted, like to a fucking drug, and lusting after a goddamn memory of a time where this fucking WALL hadn't replaced MY FRIENDS and EVERYONE I LOVED - and I JUST now realized how fucking pathetic this is.
Fuck this box.
Fuck this wall.
Fuck the fact that I don't think I'll have anything once I leave this plastic synthetic world behind. I'd rather die than cling to these plastic people. Where are my REAL fucking friends???