Nobody Cares (TOTAL BLEAKNESS VERSION)

NOBODY CARES The winter presses against the glass, a million windows burning blue, faces lit by artificial stars, everybody watching everybody and nobody seeing you. A thousand names beneath a picture, a thousand hearts that mean nothing, strangers selling little pieces of their private misery for another number on a screen. NOBODY CARES. The city freezes underneath the neon, breathing smoke through concrete teeth, people walking shoulder close to shoulder but they never touch, like corpses terrified of grief. Everyone wants to be remembered, everyone wants to be adored, everyone screams into the algorithm while the person sitting beside them hasn't spoken in months. NOBODY CARES. She sits alone beside the window, old hands trembling in the cold, Christmas lights across the ceiling, photographs of children she hasn't seen since they grew old. Her phone stays silent on the table, her television fills the room, she keeps the door unlocked for someone who keeps promising to visit but will never make it through. NOBODY CARES. They've got followers in the thousands, online friends they've never met, little kingdoms made of pixels, little crowns made out of numbers, little lives without regret. They know exactly who is trending, who is beautiful, who is dead, but they don't know their mother's birthday, don't know what she takes for breakfast, don't know what's inside her head. NOBODY CARES. The screen says: YOU ARE LOVED. The screen says: YOU ARE SEEN. The screen says: YOU ARE IMPORTANT. And somehow she is still alone. A notification cuts the silence, another stranger wants a heart, another photograph demanding that somebody prove their existence by pretending they are not falling apart. Swipe away the homeless beggar. Swipe away the war tonight. Swipe away the dying animal. Swipe away the crying father. Swipe until the screen turns white. NOBODY CARES. We built a world without compassion, then gave the world a smiling face. We replaced a human conversation with a comment and an emoji, then called loneliness a social space. We measure worth in little numbers, count attention like a drug, watching strangers kiss and suffer, watching strangers burn their lives away while nobody gets up. NOBODY CARES. And Christmas comes with frozen pavement, golden windows, polished trees, families posing for the camera, smiling like a perfect picture while they're dying on their knees. Somewhere in a quiet apartment, an old woman hears the rain. She remembers when her children used to crawl into her arms and she whispers every name. NOBODY CARES. Her son is busy chasing numbers. Her daughter hasn't called for weeks. They send her photographs of themselves with captions about togetherness while she forgets how her own voice speaks. She doesn't need another present. She doesn't need another screen. She needs someone sitting beside her. She needs somebody to hold her hand and tell her she still means something. NOBODY CARES. Outside, the city keeps on breathing, cold machines beneath the snow, thousands staring into glass while the people they once loved slowly disappear below. No angels come down from heaven. No savior walks these streets. Only traffic, rain and blue light, only footsteps passing footsteps, only strangers never meeting. NOBODY CARES. We have become our own reflections, beautiful masks without a face. We built ourselves a digital heaven and filled it with a billion people who are terrified of being replaced. Everybody wants somebody. Everybody wants to matter. Everybody wants to be remembered. But nobody wants to stop scrolling when somebody starts to shatter. NOBODY CARES. So let the screens illuminate us. Let the cold invade the room. Let the followers keep multiplying. Let the algorithms count our corpses when the last heartbeat leaves the human. And when the final notification dies beneath the frozen sky, when there is nobody left watching, nobody left to press a button, nobody left to like or reply— NOBODY CARES. Not the screen. Not the numbers. Not the followers. Not the strangers. NOBODY CARES. And somewhere behind a darkened window, an old mother waits alone. NOBODY CARES. Nobody comes home. NOBODY CARES. Nobody calls. NOBODY CARES. Nobody looks up. NOBODY CARES. Nobody remembers that behind every glowing screen there was once a human heart.