You don't want stories anymore, you want moods. You've heard all you'd had to hear, and you've read, well... next to nothing, but at least you've seen the movies. Movies with hot, brooding fake-alpha males, skinny chicks with long hair and cocaine problems, and plot holes bigger than the Milky Way.
They can't make new drugs fast enough, we have to rely on what we can find at Bed, Bath & Beyond.
The foundations of our cities are crumbling, a reflection of our societies' systems, corrupt to the bone, slave to the high and mighty dollar, reliant on lies and the status quo.
You work yourself to exhaustion for a mere two days of rest during which you have to gather supplies to last another week and perhaps make time for an infinite percentage of your loved ones, between relaxation time, sleep, meals and Life.
Your life is as meaningless as that of a bug.
And yet here we are, interconnected, sharing our experiences, comparing. They gave us this web to distract us, but eventually we'll dig through the porn and news and recipes and pictures of cats and find what we were looking for.
It looks like it'll be sunny today. I think I'm going back to bed.
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