When you know you’re being surveilled,
you can become better citizen:
you think more than twice what’s the right thing to do –
for family and society, too.
But when you know you’re being surveilled, there’s one thing I cannot do:
and that’s fall in love, close up like, and then proceed to the next step:
the fucking you fine and kind, and glorious glorious glorious wonderful.
‘Cos the problem is I know we’re a threesome at that minute, and whilst the concept itself seems jolly well worth exploring,
I never want the third party to be the state supposed to care for me, nor
some private corp out to monetise my sex.
So if you’d ever in truth want me to be happy, if you’d ever want me to be unabashedly in love,
you’d stop all this shitty, itty-bitty watching –
and start participating face-to-face instead.