It’s just these virtual reality stars
They think they’re real actors or something
Like they already won a fuckin’ Oscar.
They just entitled to it!
Like they got somethin’ special~
“Can you act though?”
I doubt if they even know what that means.
They talk, they don’t act.
If it looks like acting,
They just paid someone else to do it
With their Virtual Reality money.
The fucks are so fucked in the head,
They just splay themselves out
Without abandon.
The most shameless
The most viewed.
Their fucking and sucking first-mover advantage
Was a stroke of fucking Genius?
Can they act?
That is the question.
In originalist way,
Can they ACT?
Can they channel
The emotions of another sentient being
Who lives now, then,
Or in the mind of the author
Via a sense of empathy,
Shown through physicality, subtlety and intelligence?
Can these mothersuckas ACT?????
One second here.
I can talk like this,
Because I’m a native New Yorker.
I have a certain way with words,
That I have no peer.
You all become my sheep,
Fall deep into sleep,
And there I lay seige upon you…
Your cities,
Your holy waters,
Your tortured souls.
You know why.
It’s the age-old story,
Of father vs. son,
Masculinity,
Pride,
Cultural differences,
And a Grand fear of death.
Whereas fathers and sons
Who face the end together
Know full well
There is always a new beginning…
i & i don’t fear death,
Because I am already alive.
i & i am not a part of Virtual Reality.
I live with a physical principle,
Nothing in virtual realities makes any difference,
Matters anymore.
Nor do the tattlings
Of a sheepish frog
In a grand swamp
At night.
Virtual Reality is Zombie Life,
Seeking validation from a voice sacred to you,
Only that you don’t know what it is.
You only know
That you want it so bad,
So it should happen in your lifetime,
That Grand old feear of death`~,
Someone who will take it upon himself
Orbiting dizzily within his confined bubble of
Nature vs. Nurture.
The one with guts, the glory,
The false sense of spirit,
The tragedy of an anti-hero,
The legacy of another Rosebud,
And a zombie public to devour it all.
The sheep, in need of a good shepherd,
Not a badly hurt one,
Lay in wait.
It has to get worse
before it gets any better.
I’m not saying don’t do
what you’re gonna do.
you can do what you do,
and don’t ever stop,
but it’s definitely worse.
Now we all know now there’s no justice in this world;
To quote another, there’s only what “just is.”
–Eorin Yang