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Everybody Is Dead.

A new level of irony
has risen from the previously settled ashes.
The zombie phoenix has returned.
 
We should feel lucky.
 
Out of all of the places,
and all of the eras
that all of the different energies
could possibly coalesce
in the infinite multiverse….
 
They formed you.
They formed me.
They formed us.
They formed here.
And they continue to form now.
 
RIGHT NOW.
 
Having the faculty
to actually
perceive our existence, mechanically.
 
That is some holy shit.
 
But it appears our gears
may be jammed with fear;
taking for granted
how amazing it is here.
 
That we are.
That we are even—
at odds.
 
At odds with ourselves.
 
Yes we are still.
Very retarded.
Living room bound.
Uncivilized.
Ignoring the universe.
Ignorant.
 
This whole place is synthetic.
 
Living by a calendar
created by silly men
who misunderstood the stars.
A group of simpletons
that inadvertently became advertent.
 
Advertising.
 
"Are you dying for some silly archaic fairytale
that you most likely don’t even believe in,
let alone understand or completely agree with?
 
If so, try the Internet!
 
What is the Internet you ask?
 
The Internet is planet Earth’s life flashing before your eyes.
 
A complete and utter distraction
designed specifically for manipulation.
 
Only one [meaningless monetary denomination] per month!
And if you act now, you’ll get a bonus gold star!"
 
For the great big cult.
 
The great big cult of misanthropy.
Farting in all dimensions.
Still thinking we know it all.
After all these years.
After all this experience.
After all….
 
THIS.
 
Still just unjust animals—
 
Walking through a sea of microwaves and fossil fuel.
 
Everybody is dead.
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