What people think about us is a high priority. So much so, that we will spend our precious time working the algorithm of social sites with hopes of gaining numerous notices. Because the more approval we can generate from our peers, the more awesome we are, right? 

Not really. And I think that’s become apparent to most of us by now. 

The social circle is indeed a game, where insecurities are covered up by a display of how great we’ve got our shit together and how amazing we appear. This, however, does nothing to improve our lives, equating to further discontent simply because it is based upon an untrue presentation. And like a mirage that materializes in the desert distance with a humid blur on the horizon, it is only a visual trick of the elements. From afar, what your mind believes to see is a bountiful oasis, yet there never will be water to drink–forever in the distance, invariably out of reach. 

Eventually, we hopefully grasp that personality is not a concept, and that all people are somehow broken, presenting a role with the unreasonable expectation that living that character will equate to personal satisfaction. It is then that we realize that not only have we been betrayed by a gimmicky enterprise, but that it has been a monumental waste of time. And all the effort you’ve invested into winning approval from other lonely people does not put bread on your table, weed in your peace pipe, and love in your heart. Our list of priorities will be correct hopefully, and the morning light will creep back through the blinds to quell the melancholy. 

Life is a constant motion of interchangeable people, ships coursing through the waters under the black sky toward the end. This is a place where minutia becomes immaterial. Where the soil blankets your bones, and the hysteria of the mad many is diffused by the rising grass.