let me live in my little world. in this cube of social-free world. where I see nothing and hear nothing of anger and pain; of crimson and dysphoria. the chirp of a song. the shallow breath of the wind. the calm tides and silver sand. let me live in this world of tall grass and healthy trees. the flower banks and scent of vanilla. no clicks, or hearts, or stars, or thumbs up. no perfectly cropped images, a bellowing flutter of fake posters and slogans. no comment too harsh or too beautiful. no thumbnail, a caricature of my persona. no fame, no gluttony, no greed. a few simple words. a few simple anecdotes. small cherished moments captured and stored on a cloud. a server device stashed on a farm in the middle of dunes. kept until the rust and bones shrivel and nothing is left. for one second, there I was.

my little existence.

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jacob.greb