The Nitrotype Player Next Door

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I am the Nitrotype player next door, whether your neighborhood is rich or poor. I see you passing, at the cafeteria, at the house with the wisteria. You may never see, you may never know, that side by side we live and grow. Blissfully unaware of mutual existence, but we try each other's patience. We casually glance in passing, not knowing we talk daily, expressing our innermost thoughts to strangers, preferring anonymity to dangers. You may never see, you may never know, the hidden sorrow I never let flow. So please, be kind, and remember that words and thoughts repeat in slumber. We work together, stocking shelves, doing odd jobs, fixing things ourselves. At night, we session and wave, and drool over cars in shop we crave. You may never see, you may never know, the tired loneliness I never show. We session silently, and wonder, falling asleep on the keyboard yonder. I am the Nitrotype player next door, whether your neighborhood is rich or poor. By day, with homework we war, by night, we Discord explore. You may never see, you may never know, the dips, the thrills that life will throw. But in our shared experience, we say hello. I'll be back, you reply. I follow.