Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
Heads once held high show the only traces of nostalgia having gone bad. An over-zealous xenophobe shot himself in the face today as he stirred his baked beans, and no one noticed.
In other news, the dogs didn’t bite but then they never do they only circle.
Are they that afraid of the future that they would rather implode than let the truth resonate in the mind of the public? Is the fattened calf starting to soar? Only the frame will tell.
Meanwhile, in the real world, she’s not eating today only the children. But that’s okay they will be in bed and fast asleep, she’ll be back before they even know she was gone. Only she never will.
Whilst the fat little piggies drink away at her majesties pleasure whilst she mourns in silence. The shame hardly resonates until it does. And even then, will they learn.
Amazing where their priorities lie. Or is it not.
Heads once held high know shoelaces now more. Through song, those desolate were united. At least that was the romance nostalgia sold to a vacant generation. And we wake up. To be enlightened by fools on the internet.
As long as your productive you're viable in their eyes. At the wheels of commerce turn for all. Apart from when they do not.
It’s all just the same, day in day out and she has to make the lights work. Whilst others throw it away, it never used to be quite this bad. Or at least that’s the bait they hook you on. But things were never good, and they are not getting better any time soon.
Account for nothing they will profit from the outcome. They always have and they always will, but we never wake up to the truth in their condescending eyes.
The mindless become mindful and share it not for free. Whilst those preached to grasps for nothing, because it's all they get.
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Photo by Joel Kueng from Pexels
