Looking from my seat to the screen.
The sound bounces forward, reaching for my ears.
The people cross the air, in simply two dimension.
My vision finds them, and then my brain finds my vision.
I have a lot, I'm rich. My realistic luxury is a dream.
I live in a house that's being rented to people.
People detached from the context of the world.
The context. Oh it wants this rental so bad.
It's made up of people who are better for it.
The two dimension sparks a lightbulb.
In reality it's not an idea. It's me catching up.
You of the context have your bodies.
I have everything else.
My vision is clear for once, free from distortion.
Average days send me a below average mood.
A few things are stripped, but it doesn't stop then.
Soon I might be made homeless and alone.
You can take my hair, pull it out from the roots within.
I watch helplessly as you pick out a stone.
Then using it you can shred away my skin,
And then everything else down to the bone.
Then I'll sit there helpless, without any fellow kin.
There's nothing left so I groan.
But in this selfish moment I don't see my sin.
Because I doubt I'll realize that I'm not my own.
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