The Advanced Unsatisfied

We are constantly upgrading ourselves
To higher shelves
In the superior interior
Of our modern homes.
Alone and in groups
We fear the stoop
That comes with failing, falling
Below what is expected
To that which is rejected.
Our subconscious prone to cling,
To quietly sing, "I am a special individual
I rise above the residual."
Mantra common and persistent
Played on repeat throughout existence,
Turned neutral and faded.
The people you hate have already been hated.
The love that you make, I already made it.
You're not the first and you're not the last;
A blurred whosehewhatsit; future, present, past.
You rise above while others fly higher.
Your situation is desperate, though mine is dire.
Infinity and beyond, success is an illusion;
Subjective to the self, without said conclusion.