We sing hymns to keys,
Crawling on our knees for these cold little metal things,
to unlock door after door after door——
Behind which lies... well, whatever the fuck you're craving today.
but while you're busy worshipping these shiny metal things,
don't forget the dirty little secret:
Who turned the locks?
It's the keys themselves.
"Click. Click. Click."
As convenient as a portable prison.
我们歌颂钥匙，为了这些冰冷的金属双膝跪地，只为打开一扇又一扇的门——门后面有你想要的东西。
当你崇拜这些钥匙时，悄悄提醒你：也许正是钥匙锁上了这些门。
FromOceans. 2025.8.19