Dear diary I am now completely bored out of my mind with worry and concern The days have become rotisserie and the internet is a ruse A prison, and a narrow window for an endless attempt at perfection I have found Tinder to be a great distraction Yes, that digital pit of indifference towards romantic spectacle Yes, that find and fuck phone application Well, I met a girl on there The photos were fine But I got off more on the fact that something was happening To fill the monotony of ebb and life below the poverty line We barely spoke And I used to find such things appealing But that night, it was only ghost-like and groundless I did what I could, but I was no fun I have learned I need to feel wanted In order to tap into my own debauchery A paradox indeed I feel ashamed The city had high hopes for my soul I shall not be doing it again