Click to be

I click to transfer info,

I click to send kisses,

I click to share impressions

And my finger is tired

To translate my thoughts.

Not my middle finger, though.

Look up there is a cloud

Data are absorbing me,

The blue light of the screen is tuning my circadian rhythm,

Old samples accumulate

And I have forgotten my vision.

That question pulls me,

That chocolate gives me five minutes of heaven.

Look up, there is a cloud,

had you noticed?

The chart tells it and sells it

A single figure is drawn

from months of conjectures and rubber gloves

To Tell the reality, as we see it.

In thin line and filled dots,

The chart shows a relationship

And we feel like a big family.

Chocolate grip

The noise of these data is killing me

One dot at the time,

Shooting on the blank space.

Lack of order and lack of grip

On this rushing days

Condense in chocolate abuse.

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