Modern Guilt

People are dying, but I choose to vomit my thoughts.

I have this sinking feeling that this is as good as it gets.
It is good, but it will never reign supreme.
It's that 3 am individualist choice.
It's that one-track mind.
It's that battle for that pedestal-self.
It's that crack in the window, that jagged bit that you need to pass through.
It's that retelling of the succession of events.
It's that feeble smile, waiting for your turn.
It's that present-fu-present-never past.
It's that intellectual hunger.
It's that financial insecurity.
It's that need for that rubbing of elbows.
It's that mediocre tap on the back.
It's everything that is inking its way up.
It's that oil that turns into cold lard.