Social Entropy

I don't see my friends as much.

Too much social entropy.

If laughter is the shortest distance,

then silence is the longest

Climbing higher every year,

my parents seem so proud.

How long would it take, I wonder,

to hit the ground from up here?

The more zeroes on my pay check,

the more I feel nothing inside.

I just smile until it starts raining,

when no one can tell I'm crying

Repeating the same lines

to the same people everyday.

Until the words lose their meaning.

A paid actor with no salary.

I wonder what's worse;

that one day I'll clock on

and never clock off.

Or clock off

and never clock on

Look at you

Look at you.

Walking around

like you own the place.

Like you're owed something.

Like the universe should somehow

bend to your will.

Make you happy.

Make you succesful.

Like you're not just one

of billions of meat sacks

scrounging through the muck.

On this vanishing speck,

with death at every corner.

Blessed with a moment

of consciousness

just to squander it

paying of a mortgage

and getting drunk every weekend.

Putting your cans in the recycling.

Like you care.

Sharing your cousin's food pics.

Like you care.

Blanking your mother's calls

and wondering why your kids never visit.

The hell is your plan

when time is called

and it turns out it wasn't all for nothing?

When it turns out that

this sprawling, magnificent,

confusing, beatiful world.

Was a place to live.

Not exist and check out.

You gonna ask for a refund?

Injury time? Best of three?

You dope.

Faux Pas

I get a rush of pleasure, whenever

I realise I'm being lied to.

It turns me from a cog stuck in

Social pleasantries,

To a scientist wearing a white coat,

Staring down the microscope

At the nature of the human condition.

My emotions flee the scene of

My detached fascination.

I probe further, letting the subject

Get caught in the web of their own contradictions.

The slow burn excites me.

The panicked, flustered expression

That turns at times into anger,

Or bouts of nervous laughter

And the sudden need to be elsewhere.

He who doesn't lie is not interesting.

I struggle to find people with

Nothing to hide

Worth my time.

It's quite unsettling, you may think,

But lying is an artful game.

I respect the player who plays well,

And one day hope to meet one as

Skilled as myself.

There's nothing wrong with me, it's just

A hobby, a quirk,

An innocent obsession.

You believe me right?