Fear my house of the future [the future which fate has bestowed it]

Fear the standardized temperatures, the many dank, desolated rooms. Most of all fear the empty silences reflected as not an echo traipses down the corridors [yet three human beings dwell within the rooms]

Sit isolated from the man and woman who birthed you. Hear little tinny bleeping, until your personal, blaring, computerized jukebox breaks the silence.

So much for real human contact. [What’s a real human look like anyway?] Hear your mother talking through your only link to the outside world, your cell phone, asking YOU what’s for dinner. Feel your stomach growl as you hit “End” without answering, angry at this reversal of roles. Listen contently as the world returns to silence.

Then explain to me the fate of our world.

09/22/2004

Posted on 09/27/2004
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