We carefully construct pieces of fake happiness and put them on display to stay relevant. 

But what is truth and why are we so afraid of telling it? 

Because it might disrupt this embellished facade that is ever so delicate.

It encourages us a sick fascination with fabrication. 

We cower behind this digital shroud avoiding authenticity like it isn’t allowed,

so we can up heed this critical crowd thats bitterly proud.

Its not worth it.

Its okay to not evoke astonishment through constant accomplishment;

I’m just so sick of cozy pictures of couples posing together when in the real world, this one, they’re on the verge of breaking up. 

Most of the shit we spill, we’re making up.

And its time we start waking up because we refuse to accept the fact that at the end of the day… we’re fake as fuck.

To portray life without flaws or imperfections down to the cuticle, 

its negate the very essence of what makes this life beautiful.

Now when we log on, its got a sad and depressed,

mad and distressed.

Its adding the stress and my own mother knows that that isn’t best, making us feel like our lives are static and less.

We scroll endlessly through other people having fun,

jealous they’re doing things we haven’t done,

and like a magic sponge,

soak up all this imagery until we suffocate under our own envy and take a tragic plunge with gas in our lungs. 

We’re accepting this notion thats it viable to validate our resistances with data thats quantifiable,

when the undeniable truth is that is far from reliable. 

We’re stressing numbers over content,

it’s no wonder we’re despondent.

Cause no matter how obvious it may seem we still hunger for this nonsense. 

We’re being duped into believing that life is hollow without a bunch of likes or follows.

But I pray for a world in which numbers are irrelevant and people live in three dimensions,

and don’t feed off tension or bleed dissension or need to a mention or need attention to seek ascension. 

But the choice is ours.

We want to live free or fencing?

We’re not people anymore.

And its odd to see that now we got to be on this cultural odyssey, 

to become profitable commodities,

brainwashed by this consumer’s philosophy that now shoddily embodies me.

We’re not people, we’re brands.

(and idk how that happened) 

We’re depicting what we think people want versus what we feel we should be versus even worse, who we truly are.

Wishing on shooting stars to be as important as the movie stars

because we all know that dogs only chase the moving cars.

We focus all our energy into taking one piece of an identity transforming it into an entity, and saying thats what its meant to be. 

But take a risk.

Be yourself.

Don’t be an expectation.

Cuz the minute you embrace who you truly are I guarantee you’ll find some glee and exaltation.

But the biggest reason why I hate social media is I can’t escape it.

I can’t take it cause I feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite.

Lord knows I got my iPhone 6  lifting it to take the daily selfie when deep down inside I know no one really gives a shit.

And thats why I wrote this.

In hopes that I can flip a switch and come in grips with it,

because I’m getting really fucking sick of it. 

I check up on my phone more than I check up on my own;

my own mom, my own dad, my own grandma who’s dying slowly.

Social media is like a drug it got me feeling high and lowly,

and I got to contemplate if I’m the only one who wonders why I’m lonely. 

I’m enslaved and I’m trapped and I can’t change the way I behave or adapt

because the fact is my brain is still ingrained in this crap. 

So what does that tell you? 

I’m on this never ending spiral,

feeding to go viral,

and dreaming to be some teenager’s idol.

And without that I feel like i have no purpose,

feeling worthless,

thinking is this the audience really worth this? 

I’ve been defeated by this desire,

thats deep seated to create nothing more than to be retweeted.

I feel like a martyr inside,

at least a part of me has died, 

because no matter how hard that I’ve tried at the end of this spoken word,

I still want you all to subscribe. 

And I know I’m bad at this but life isn’t about subscribers or followers or statuses.

Its not about quantity, its about quality.

Quality of love, quality of friendship, quality of experience,

not a bunch of  temporary networks that are making us go delirious. 

We’ll never know the power of one laugh or one conversation or one hug,

until we put our phones down and simply unplug.

All I’m asking is that we walk away from the screen and embrace this whole thing.

This whole fucking world has irreplaceable seeds.

Because in our final  hours when our head knows that death is close,

what do u think we’ll be reflecting on? 

Our best times or our best posts?