Growing up I wanted everything to mean something but in reality nothing means anything. Nothing is anything more than we make it, and then that’s only for as long as we live anyway. No one experiences the value of any of this in the same way either, object or relational.

Fear not! Our prayers have been answered! Every stupid thing we put on the internet lives on! Data, metrics, personal info, all saved for extrapolation and interpretation in case something else foolish needs sold to the brilliant. Move along, nothing to deny here.

I’m finally doing my part. That makes me a member of the global fucking village or something and I belong now, right? Right? This is purpose, right? I’m headed in a good direction because I let the traffic on the information superhighway run over my fucking delicate eggshell head and break it open for all to see, right? Call a virtual ambulance, bravo, code 5, no sirens please. I swear they’re so loud they wake the bloody dead.

This is my brain on drugs, and this is also my brain on drugs. Look! Pharmacology CAN solve the ungodly! You just need to have faith in it lol. Summon the chaplain if they survived the latest budget, I think I’m finally a believer in something and someone needs to slap me an affirmation! Quick! It’s an emergency!