All The Pretty Pieces

I feel like all the pretty pieces are falling down around me. When all the things that used to bring you joy in life are slowly dying all around you, does that mean that you're slowly dying too?

More and more every day, bots and computers replace interactions with real people. And even the real people themselves are slowly replaced with this glassy look in their eyes, soulless and lobotomized by the tiny glowing screen in their hands.

Doesn't anyone remember how good it feels to feel the warmth of the sunshine on your skin, to care, to love, to fuck?

I get this stomach churning sense that everyone's need for it has been replaced. Replaced by this nothingness, this emptiness.

I refuse to change. I refuse to lose my soul. I'll be the last hold out, but every day gets a little more lonely.

Maybe I will find my happiness, maybe I will find my peace in a world that is falling apart and becoming less human.

Am I the only one left? Are there others like me? Or am I just screaming into the echoeless void?

All my pretty pieces are falling all around me. Won't someone catch the last one before it falls?