It’s just a rectangle

such a pretty rectangle

The vast array of colorful lights

arranged into images,

falsehoods,

of the real thing.

 

A portal into a separate, secret, little world.

I can do anything here

in my pocket dimension.

 

A vast library of human knowledge.

The engine driving it forward,

the gutter of civilization.

 

I can, in the span of an afternoon,

see more beautiful, naked, women

than any man before me in history would have

in a lifetime.

And still accomplish nothing.

 

My life wasted,

spent staring at a rectangle.

The all-knowing rectangle,

capable of nothing on its own.

 

The 3rd hemisphere of my brain.

Devoted to keeping me entertained,

when I should be reflecting.

Devoted to keeping me reflecting,

when I should be learning.

Devoted to keeping me addicted,

when I should be living.