Neon-Snake depression desert version

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Everyone wants to be someone, whether it's an incarnation of impregnable endurance, being a righteous and selfless man, or be it a beacon of truth to a whole generation. Everyone seeks convergence of ideals, leaving them sparks in oneself that may shine brightest to all and everything. Such a human, venerably-blazing trait, suffocated by blackened-cold reality. At last, all of us burn as the same fading flame. Every day a bit more dimmed as our faces wither by times horrific tides. Who am I, faced with infinity? Who is one, faced by everything we thought once was and what really had stopped lingering before we were concious? My self-chosen fate strangles my heart. Aches, like the venom of a deadly snake, taking all efforts to discover meaning in our ever-fading being, stripped of all possibility of ever finding it. A burden we honored with one neon-lit Network, striving constantly to crush us, but yet we're finding hope and condolence in spreading it to someone.