Sitting in a room

With big brown wooden walls, with fake rainy sounds coming from wood-and-plastic perfectly rectangular speakers.
Sitting on a chair with plastic armrests, staring feebly at a 23-inch rectangle that flashes different colours if I press different buttons.
There is an obsidian black lamp that shines artificial sodium light in the darkness of the much-too-late hour of two AM.
Beside this light is a bookshelf filled with what was once pulp from a tree somewhere in the world, probably the amazon.
But back to the table, where the rectangular screen glares at me menacingly, lies another plastic device that, when moved, makes pixels activate in such and such a manner.
Beside this plastic device is, you guessed it, a plastic board with keys on it that, when pressed, darken a pixel and make the patterns of light on the screen change somewhat.

There are objects strewn around the off-white desk that make the place look messy, but not pig-styly. Perhaps the only natural looking thing is a djembe drum about the height of a coffee table that does not seem to fit amidst all the fake plasticky things and that, when struck, booms out and resonates through all the corners of the underground room in which I find myself in.

Where did nature go? I miss her.
Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore