A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE FUTURE

This place is a desert for the mind Devoid of emotion and barren of thought No real thought, at least It's no surprise Most minds here have long since atrophied from lack of use They wait in flatline for the next rushing jolt of synthetic stimulation The real world can't compare, even if it were allowed to Contemplating the real world leads to seeing the world for what it is, a prison A cell for the mind, body and soul All my life I've been a prisoner Cowering at the idea that I might be capable of unique thought Terrified of what my own instincts might lead to So how could I blame them? But it hasn't always been this way I've heard rumours Filtered, distant, faded I seek to know the truth