Social distancing is a thing of the past. It has been our norm for longer than we do recall. It has been our disorder ever since we wore the mask of pretense that we don’t even recognize our true dreams. We are the true living nightmare, that’s as real as it gets. But worry not, we wear cologne and make up better than we wear our hearts on our sleeves. We play dress rehearsals more than we do innocent games. We are physically in close proximities but our minds have long drifted and our hearts’ desires are burried where the sun never shone its possibilities to a “bright future”.

Oh well needless to say, our sighs speak more than we do nowadays. And regardless of whether our thumbs are getting shorter, they do more communication that we care to say. We might as well wish for our voices to be removed and replaced by silent peace. Because our minds have become louder than our vocal abilities. Our throats are strained slaves of screams and sorrow sobs. So we say “may our problems be replaced smoke, signals of dum brains it’s numbed pains” .
So needless to say, much of our roots are cut off, we don’t dare to bloom. Dull is the new color and we continue to fade.