Thanks for the Solidarity, Dirks!
I am starting to think
it is not the best use of my time—
splitting myself between
this world and Lumon’s halls,
where the lights hum sterile
and everyone whispers of purpose.
I am starting to feel
like I am being forced to watch,
guided by unseen hands,
my friends and social media acting as my Kier,
nudging me ever forward,
as if they wrote my protocol in some break room decree.
I am finding myself
putting off watching,
stalling outside the door of the next episode,
until a friend asks if I am caught up—
until I must pretend,
like an innie at a conference room table,
that I belong here,
that I understand what is unfolding,
even as my mind drifts elsewhere,
wondering if I will ever escape.