When I look closely, things become weird. When did I decide to trade my time (my life) for amusing data? Our extended reality narrows the interaction. For some reason I don’t care how to complete a great end for my life, no matter what it means. It’s better some guys feed me with stupidity every second. They fill the gaps of my timeline.
The machinery creates the artificial global relationship. Plastic opinions that causes me more pain than a punch in stomach. We deserves a marionette existence. Doesn’t sound bad. Here my personality, gives me a miserably rented life, please.
I belong to a forever disappearing world.
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