Incidental Celebration



Each year
We gather around the materials — networking and negotiating plastics, zinc, bone china, and environment —
Everything except intimacy.

Each year
We look back not to appreciate, but to compare; to audit and not evaluate; not to learn but to blame.

Each year
We’re older, more competitive, and a little less satiated.

Each year
We’re incapable — to change, to revolutionize.

Each year
Society binds us more into richer chains of artificiality — with glittery iron coins, and a celebrated mockery of humanity.
Not to have divinity bestow us with ethical capacities, but to maintain the gears of a rat’s treadmill, to keep them entrenched in superficiality. 

Each year
I get more convinced of the futility of these acts.
Each year
I get less social.
Yet each year,
I become society — although with limited essential calculations - from a distance,
Yet with better symmetry with the existing members.

Each year
It’s the previous year again.


 

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