The incessant tapping of finger tips, eyes absorbing the harmful rays, merely a human with desires to fulfill, waits for the glass to be filled to the brim.
Submerging in the plastic aquarium arena of shattered identities and a loss of reality as children of the technological sea. They used to wait for each other, now frantically pacing for the reward system hijacking notification drug-numbing fix.
Technology sensing the brain’s psychology, only presenting the desired results to the searching mind. Abysmal connection plummeting causing dubiousness in the searcher’s heart.
Initiating aqueducts of affixed hearts from far away terrains, interchanging evocations of nostalgic moments; the conscience of intention bears the gift of knowing the use of our medium. What can vanquish the raw doorway of the soul exchange in reality?
The plastic aquarium shines brightly into the absorbed eyes, blinding the raw doors. ‘Halt, cease, no more’ cries the inner eyes. ‘Done are your days now go restore.’
This technology reciever is a mass techno fever; can we anchor in the deceiver and re-balance our buoyancy? To set our tools at bay and recognize or concede to venture into the wild, our voracious dwelling beckoning us by it’s sequences.
~If you’d like to collaborate, feel free to find my email on this blog’s connect page.~