Somebody once said that greed is a fat demon with a small mouth. One could say the same thing about Facebook. It's remorseless, implacable, as addicting and pernicious as a drug. Of course, it is a drug. Like bottomless obsidian. Do I use it as a social crutch? Well, no. But that doesn't mean I'm not dependent on it. Seduced by its wiles, its convenience, and its ubiquity, I can't give up. I'm one of the die-hards, a true user. I suppose most people are, but...
I take it to the next level, a higher echelon,
like while you get all equestrian, I stampede you on my mastodon.
Dosing through the eye, I hit-it 'til my retina crinkle,
pupils dilating like pancakes, psychedelic dreams like Rip van Winkle.
The screen is a mirage, Zombie Wars populate,
lost in family-tree cultivars, I'm the number one reprobate.
[Zuckerberg's my fan, it's all part of the plan!!]
I perambulate the cyberspace with stamina,
droppin' wicked diction, breadcrumbs of discernment,
poking mothafucka's like I'm stabbin' ya.
(Feeel my wall post lacerations!)
What I do best is stalk benevolent, cruise the news feed like a stealth jet,
aloof but not hidin', not frettin' just checkin' in,
ridin' the hype until the moment is ripe.
Then I doseify! (yeah!), I like to get high!,
'til I can't decipher cyber from matter (O shit...),
space from face, book from bewitchment,
person from profile.
All of a sudden I'm feckless, (is this a test?)
Hip to nothing in this anti-social labyrinth,
No rest, no reprieve,
and ignant of my location -
Fickle-framed fantasy-land or home (whatever that is...).
...Facebook rule immediately in effect- one sign-in per day. I'll report back to the success of this campaign. Obviously, this campaign failed, now it's the future, I cancelled and resurrected the account. The future Facebook still has the gonads in a vice.
I take it to the next level, a higher echelon,
like while you get all equestrian, I stampede you on my mastodon.
Dosing through the eye, I hit-it 'til my retina crinkle,
pupils dilating like pancakes, psychedelic dreams like Rip van Winkle.
The screen is a mirage, Zombie Wars populate,
lost in family-tree cultivars, I'm the number one reprobate.
[Zuckerberg's my fan, it's all part of the plan!!]
I perambulate the cyberspace with stamina,
droppin' wicked diction, breadcrumbs of discernment,
poking mothafucka's like I'm stabbin' ya.
(Feeel my wall post lacerations!)
What I do best is stalk benevolent, cruise the news feed like a stealth jet,
aloof but not hidin', not frettin' just checkin' in,
ridin' the hype until the moment is ripe.
Then I doseify! (yeah!), I like to get high!,
'til I can't decipher cyber from matter (O shit...),
space from face, book from bewitchment,
person from profile.
All of a sudden I'm feckless, (is this a test?)
Hip to nothing in this anti-social labyrinth,
No rest, no reprieve,
and ignant of my location -
Fickle-framed fantasy-land or home (whatever that is...).
...Facebook rule immediately in effect- one sign-in per day. I'll report back to the success of this campaign. Obviously, this campaign failed, now it's the future, I cancelled and resurrected the account. The future Facebook still has the gonads in a vice.
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