Everyone’s here.
Nobody’s home.
Disconnected watches connection become something increasingly easy to count and strangely difficult to feel. Friends multiply, replies arrive instantly and reactions keep everything moving, while context, meaning and actual presence quietly thin out. The room has never been fuller. Somehow, there’s still nobody there.
No one’s here
Screens alight in empty rows
Faces flicker, nobody knows
Messages hover, hearts appear
Silence deeper than it seems here
Jokes recycled, reactions fade
Lives compressed, neatly displayed
Room is full, yet still alone
Signals crossed, no one’s home
Edges thin
Signals fray
Offline waits
Far away
Disconnected
Eyes on glass
Hearts in queue
Nothing passes
Lists expand, friends multiply
Empty echoes fill the sky
Replies arrive with perfect speed
Meaning lost in data feed
Words recycled, context gone
Laughter thin, the room moves on
We reach, we swipe, we disappear
Close enough to feel unclear
Gaps widen, edges fray
Offline waits too far away
Disconnected
Eyes on glass
Hearts in queue
Nothing passes
Offline is empty
Offline is loud
Offline is gone
Offline is crowd
Disconnected
Eyes on glass
Reach extends
Nothing passes
Ping
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