Life's a strange thing. Sometimes, we never bother to stop and see the beauty in the situations we take for granted everyday. Maybe it's because we're too wrapped up in the shrouds of self absorbency, nailing our own coffins with the boards of efficiency. Killing ourselves with our over inflated egos, crushed beneath the weight of our self imposed grandeur, living in a realm of fantasy and reality that collides with a shower of bright pills and sorrow, like fireworks on the fourth July, a celebration simulation of the deaths of a thousand souls in a cheery shower of sparks.

Is this what we reduce ourselves to? A shallow pool of cyanide and self hate, eating away at the moral fabric of society, like our acidic cutting words could take shape and form against the un-things. We paint ourselves a pretty picture of superimposed happiness and airbrushed modesty, never catching a glimpse of the monster lurking beneath, as we pass by the reflective windows of the glass and granite buildings, needle sharp steel puncturing the skin of the earth, draining her of humanity in the mostly holy humane way. A sacrifice to self indulgent fantasies of wealth and luxury and shallow misery, wrapped in the shrouds of self absorbency.