The echoes of yesterday's songbirds bounce off the walls of our untamed digital jungles. We track their tweets, not in song, but in sad, ironic hashtags. #LostBirds, they proclaim, while the world scrolls endlessly, seeking solace in 280 characters or less.
Once, the sky was a chart-topping Billboard, each note a melodic ode to nature. Now? It’s a cacophonic playlist of forgotten tweets, each one marked 'Read', yet somehow, we continue to scroll. Songbirds lost in the void, chipping chaotically into the ether.
"Their song is an advertisement, their chirp a brand." - An Untitled Essay on Avian Capitalism
The only song still sung is the one we hum in corporate meetings, a tune composed by the Ghost of Efficiency Past. As we play our parts on this never-ending stage, we forget the songbird’s final tweet: “#Help.”
"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of... hashtags?" - Eleanor Roosevelt's Twitter