Intellectual Monopoly

There was a time for me, for many still,
Where red icons and buzzing vibrations would jumpstart my heart,
Quickly matching pace with my growing intrigue,
Who,
Why,
Where,
Is this person thinking of me?

In the early days, a type of friendship I’m now accustomed to,
Where a click and a pat on the back elicit the same emotional feelings.

We all broke through the proxies in the schools,
We all ran back like a drug,
Even if nothing was everything,
We would all look to see.

Funny now how I’ve grown,
Not counting virtual likes as any real interest, even if it is,
Not accepting the façade you tell me I must,
Reading your stupid-ass captions in third person-
I tried to find a group of real fans,
With tangible ‘likes,’
And found myself in the midst of the lowest percentile of humankind,
Pilfering ideas and reselling them at outrageous markup,
Measuring profit as how much of someone else’s day they can waste.

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About brettspadaro

Attempting to complete a business degree in southern California. Dream big, act rationally. Go for what you believe in.

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