Glass and metal lives.
Sunsets roll in. They collide upon every surface, catapulting a multitude of red and yellow beams to bounce and glimmer my space. A glance toward the un curtained window reveal an all too familiar glass jungle that lies beyond my own transparent protection, and for a moment, with eyes transfixed upon their intricate dance, humble it become to watch and bear witness to such an event.
Chaos rages beyond. The sounds of life against concrete and steel echo round my head and opening dry lips, a silent plea for more is set free. Goes unnoticed though it does, as what comes in response is a siren signalling another’s potential downfall amid the monsters that haunt this realm. Or could it be my own? Who knows, for this moment of rare connection with what is breaks and thus a return to the virtual lands identical yet safe from thought return to dominate my conscious.
Survival is key. When you rise and fall each and every day, ten, twenty, then thirty years pass by in the blink of an eye. Gargoyles taunt me too. Their smug faces grimacing more than ever upon the lines which dent my forehead as I pass beneath the gates of hell and into the prison of payment. Hundreds gather here, yet a soul cannot be seen. No individual can be found amongst a sea of deserters, thus, confined I am to the sidelines of disillusionment and alienation from peers that has raged since the memory began.
To live with five million people though sustain a existence of desertion is a life many would never dream to envy, as each face however much carved by skilled and separate hands, the eyes cry a tale of emptiness and longing for the virtual world locked within a few inches of glass and metal.
. . .Thank you. . .
Cover photo from: CHEKii (2016)