Sick

Îäèí Ïèèò
Feeling ill at ease, I‘ve had a hard time getting laid of late. Psychologically, can’t help hitting the wall.
Hell, there’s probably something wrong with me, still I’ve no idea how can you get it up over a talking doll.
Walking down the street, in this crowded void, I just keep registering the feminine features of the bypassing women.
Only to realize upon further consideration that may be these are just female avatars and that I was actually daydreaming
All my life, against all odds, picturing Her – the girlfriend, the bride, the wife, the mother of our beloved kids,
The one who’d ultimately hear my last breath and then put her hand upon my eyelids.
But no. When I look around, all I see is a dystopian marketplace. 
The QR-coded gizmos meticulously displacing the human race,
While regularly uploading snapshots of the goddamned process online.
Via Wi-fi. Leaving their ‘digital footprint’ – so pointless, so dumb, so malign –
The Combine manufacturing greed, envy, and fear.
It makes me sick. I gotta get out. I don’t belong here.
Sick. Gotta get out. Don’t belong here. Sick.
The nightmare of commodities, assets, and liabilities. An enormous warehouse bloating with stuff:
Pallets upon pallets of useless crap doomed to be wasted anyway. You don’t need it. Enough is enough.
The Amazon basin’s dying, while banks keep issuing loans to prop up the shit-flood sweeping through stinking malls
Right up to your doorstep. The consumer craze: services, clients, all these talking dolls purchasing talking dolls from the talking dolls…
Not even a Punch and Judy show anymore. I don’t know what it’s all about.
Just a nuthouse. And I’ve had a hard time these days finding the way out.
I’ve no idea where the exit is. I feel ill at ease. I’m afraid there’s something terribly wrong.
This place’s getting to me. It just lets me down. I don’t belong here.
Sick. Gotta get out. Don’t belong here.
Sick. Gotta get out. Don’t belong here. Sick.
<...Ill at ease. I’ve had a hard time getting laid of late. Psychologically, can’t help hitting the wall.
Hell, I know there’s probably something wrong with me, still I’ve no idea how can you get it up over a talking doll>.
Sic.

11.11.2022