I step into the real world computer
And find it just as disappointing as the air and meat world
There’s sparkles of good though,
I cling on to those and roll in them, trying to coat myself in glitter and throw it out.
Life’s just hard work isn’t it,
Scratching over scratches.
People with no business spewing things they haven’t lived.
Before I go out I’ve got to lube myself up to slip through it all.
Greasy comet, back to the finger-marked screen.