These days. πŸ˜”
Everyone has learned so well to play a different persona, a different role. πŸ˜”
Building a false facade. πŸ˜”
I wonder if we’re all ever really who we say we are. πŸ˜”
If these connections are fake. πŸ˜”
Or maybe, the connection was never made at all. πŸ˜”
Perceived to be so by one or both. πŸ˜”
These laughters, funs, and games. πŸ˜”
Perhaps only temporary nourishment, perhaps distraction from what we need, not want. πŸ˜”
Are these virtual feelings fulfillment of only virtual happiness, and by proxy or disillusionment we believe it to complete a whole?
What, if anything, hides behind these material things and seeming happiness?
What troubles plague each of us and is only dampened by brief entertainment?
Are we satisfied or perhaps we’ve set our expectations too high?
But in the end, does it even matter?