pixels flicker, a cold blue glow,
illuminating the ghost of a face,
yours, or a stranger's, mirrored back,
indistinguishable.
endless threads, woven of data,
spin a labyrinth, no Minotaur,
but a million fragmented selves,
each whispering promises,
each demanding attention.
information cascades, a flood,
drowning out the quiet spaces,
the pauses where thought might bloom,
replaced by the frantic scroll,
the endless refresh,
a desperate search for something,
anything,
to fill...
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