Beneath the Layers

Sun, 02/08/2015 - 12:58 -- gneb644


This poem is about: 
Our world



   A week goes by: another layer

   Someone dislikes you on the internet: another layer

   All your friends are so much more confindent than you: another layer

All these layers and you still aren't satisfied. What are they for? Protection? Self Satisfaction? Something to blind you from the world? If you keep this up eventually you'll be nothing but a layer, is that what you want? What would your parents think of this?

Another useless rant from the only voice I can hear under all the layers. It tells me the layers are bad, that they rot my mind. I never listen. It's so warm under these layers, who would ever leave? Then again, I do miss my free will. It is strange seeing my fingers like all these profiles, I don't even know these people. I wish I could dress myself again, have my own style instead of the mindless fashion that society makes me wear. I feel like a puppet wrapped up in string. It's okay though, so far no harm has come to me. That's why I stay. I go to school, but only to see my, my...  friends? Is that what they are? I think I saw an old 90's show where friends would go to the park and talk and play and socializing was done through the means of verbal confrontation, not phones. What a weird thought, I have real friends, we go on instagram and snapchat together, and besides, there's no park in our neighbourhood, so I couldn't possibly socialize there. Must be that voice getting to me. I'm getting tired of the voice trying to control the life that isn't mine, maybe it can't get out under my layers. I should just take them off for a second at let it out. One, two, three, ten, twenty, countless. They start getting thinner, older, then, they're off. I look around, I don't like what I see, it's like that zombie movie I once saw, mindless bodies walking, pupils permanently dialated by the ever present light from their devices, the few that actually look up form their phones get scared and go back to their phones. Is this the life that I desired so badly? I look at my feet, no, they're not my feet, they're strange feet, not mine, I get scared, I run, the feet follow me, they're so fast, they must be good at running away. I can't keep running, I stop. So do the feet. I finally get a good look at myself and I see a beautiful person, practically glowing compared to the others. Is this me? If I'm this amazing why do I need all the layers? Well, they were warm. But there's fresh air here. No response. I... I like this. It's nice. I go over to the others, I should be able to spread this amazing joy and satisfaction. I find one with as many layers as I did. I don't remember his name, in fact I only knew him as "seabreez25". How sad. I don't even know his name. He doesn't respond, I look at his phone. "Some weirdo is talking to me, how sad, get a life loser.." That last part made me sad. It made me cold inside. The kind of cold only another layer could solve. I run. I can't get more ;ayers and give up on this amazing new, fresh world. I run and run, until the asphalt turns green. I look up. A strange oasis opens up before my fresh eyes. It's green, and there's a swing set. Sounds familiar but I cant recall how. The strangest thing about the the place is there's one person, and they aren't on their phones, just like me. I walk up, ready to see what the world is like without layers.



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