'YOU ARE ENTERING A RED SILENT STUDY ZONE' glaring down at you. The gods have spoken; smeared blood across the board and silenced the lands.
Around you, however - the chatter of heavy fingers on keyboards, anxious tips on mice, stressed nails scraping desks. Softly, the violin in your ear wanes to its swan-song , telling you of A Single Man dying of heart attack with his gun in hand.
single signle signal
The whirr, electronic, futuristic, of the tram dashing past.
As the violin comes to a crescendo, you look around. Air is tight in this atrium of enforced quietude, albeit not executed. The two valves never let enough air in.
What chokes you most, however, are the wires - cradling heads, curdling your stomach.
Fear of castration sweats off each student. What would happen if, in this post-modern society, we were to be cut off from our connection keepers, disconnected from the World-Wide, torn away from our peers waiting, nervously (bored) at the other side, for our updates.
[/]picture of the 3 books you just grabbed off the shelf but are too stressed to open. [/] [/]caption:[/] AT THE LIBRARY #DYING #ALLNIGHTER #KMN [/]comments:[/] - Omg SAME! WRU?! -Ewh I hate city library they always burn my coffee.. -We can do it babe!!! <muscle emoji>
You glare at your phone. Everyone is always ready to help, everyone is always there, the world is waiting. But it waits in its artificial web.
Its web of 1s and 0s and 0s and 0s and 1s, not quite ready to get out of the house. Because what is your phone if not a performance, an act?