My friends are fucking idiots who can’t handle the world
Grown men aping wrestlers, women wanting to regress into little girls
I’m no different, why try to pretend?
When life’s a constant struggle, with no payoff at the end
I want to live adventures, have a life of gravity
but I’m swimming against the pull of a blackhole anxiety
My hair always looks stupid, I’ve got a face like a Royal
I’m barrel chested, with thin arms pink skin soft hands filed nails
(I’ve a) distain for gainful employment, the idea of a career disgusts me
But I’ve got bills to pay, money talks and nothing’s free
We’re all kids having kids, still acting like kids
Work’s still work though you’ve got a ping-pong table and we ogle at marvel films
So play with your cars, or your video games
We’re mountains of human waste
I hate us all the same
Rise of the idiots. Breakfast cereal cafes. Multi-million pound spends on films about toys and comic book characters from the ‘80s. Multiple online platforms dedicated to curating your own personal brand, where you can use sleight of photographic hand to pretend your life is amazing whilst airing your anxieties to an audience of followers. Getting swol and looking ridiculous on insta… or sometimes secretly wishing you were swol. Not wanting to grow up. What the fuck is our problem?
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