Abigail Hopewell

Yes, I see it.

I see it rammed down our desperate, drug-laced, thirsty neural networks; we be forced to swallow the bitter pill of humanity’s worst. All knocked back with a soothing measure of curated memes, mimes, memories, monologues, and funny cats. Ah, not so bad after all. I could get used to this

Oh, sweet scorching sorrowful you, when will you ever end you will never end will you

And so

I sometimes savour the respite of a blind eye turned

I sometimes thank my God and my lucky stars it’s not me today

I sometimes just forget about it, don’t even think about it, dismiss it

I sometimes find myself normalised and desensitised to it

I sometimes only see my own

But where does mine start and end and when does yours become mine and mine yours

or were we always all in this together

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto (Pexels)