All Else is Dream

Just go to sleep.
Shut your eyes.
It’s natural, it’s easy, it’s free.
They’re burning like a throat full of cinnamon, so just close them.
Yes cinnamon, like the video that just auto played on some bright white social media site. 
What a time to be alive.
The Age of Enlightenment? 
The Greek philosophers? 
Shakespeare? 
All of it foreplay for this the age of;
ego thriving, 
sleep depriving, 
jealousy driving, 
attention striving, 
corporate conniving, 
moral compass diving, 
All else is reality and dying. 
Slowly trying yet realising, pressure equalising nihilistic life. 
Nothingness without the cyber waves of furious, bright, white..
Switch it off an hour before, they say.
Intravenous, eyetravenous, brain-tra-fucking-venous. 
Venus, love me to sleep.
Love thy sleep.
Know thy repose.
One last check, notification enslaving mechanism, I surrender to thee. 
For only insomniacs left alive.
Maniacs thrive in habit forming, slumber time ritual. 
Down with sleep!
Off I creep to a cyber land of fantasy and guise, where none can see a darting eye.
..But isn’t that also in dream?