mmmmmmmmmmmm
I am a drone.
I get in my car, I go about what is expected of me. I do my duty without complaint. I am reliable, I am consistent, I am predictable. What is it to be creative, I am only the norm. Societal expectations placed upon me like a plastic bag over my head. We are all suffocated into submission by the duct tape gag of financial independence. I know not what the sun is, only the darkness of the garish shadows of the moon. I drive to work in the dark, I work in a hole and I drive home in the dark. My world is permanently affixed in the world of black, a perpetual and never ending cap on the sphere of my world. Did you know the earth ends at the horizon? Of course it is flat. Flat only to me, since I will never travel beyond its edges anyway.
I spend my days torquing my mind and wrenching my limbs to propel myself to newer and greater heights. It is as though the height attained previously was not high enough. It is mindless patter, scribbling on a page, totally purposeless yet the be all end all of my purpose. Therefore, my purpose means nothing. It is nothing. Nothing to anyone except you, you self-centered bastard. I burned you and all I get in return is hate, can’t you give a little more than that? Disdain, disgust, spitting at my feet. What have I done to you to make me deserve this, you are so very very merciful. Merciful like the devil, I think you know you are. Keep trying and you might just get a merit badge. One of 700 possible badges. You could collect them all, one in each box of mccompressedlard or on each mchumanshit.
All that I do is pointless, all that I say is null, all that I see is dead, all that I hear is grating. All that I feel is rough, all that I make fails, and all that I have in my capability is simply unexploited pyrite.
It is the plague. Stop it, stop it, end it before it consumes you too.