Between Walls and Pieces of Plastic

Between some walls, and pieces of plastic we breathe. And stare amazed at the wheels which open up new ways. Far from a place called home, where lovers whisper our names. The eulogy of a forgotten youth, who refuse to be turned into slaves. Refuse to be drowned in the sea of their expectations. Never be the cogwheels in their deadly engine. Fuck running around in circles amidst their holy lies. I'd rather drink from 9 to 5, than work to stay alive. Fuck their expectations. They mean nothing to me. Fuck you for turning this feeling into a commodity, with products bought that raise the flag of conformity. Fuck you for trying to sell our independence, ideas forsaken for the sake of marketing strategies. Not to be defined as another entertaining product, but a means for creativity, self-realization, and a forum to meet and share thoughts with beautiful people. Cause this is what it is meant to be. And this is what it means to me. How long will we struggle to become what we despise ???Between some walls and pieces of plastic we breathe.