Surrounded by your friends,
Air so heavy it’s suffocating you,
Yet, you’re glad for the end,
There’s nothing like self-alienation,
It trumps the social net,
Either way your mind’s your worst enemy,
Worse when no one can talk you from the edge,
For in that bubble all logic is sound,
When you’re all that there is,
A legitimate possibility,
But also spurious,
For to exist,
Other folk there must be,
Else, who’ve you alienated yourself from,
Making yourself the grand authority?
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