It’s a toxic alien invasion, perpetrated by flashing advertisement screens, airbrushed Instagram idiots, and the general public’s insatiable appetite for material things. It’s an implant that poisons a healthy brain with warped ideas of happiness and success. And it’s shoved down the throats of the masses like gospel.
Those with iPhone welded to hand await the zombie apocalypse, unaware that they are already minions of the horde. The disease is decades in the making, a motherboard seed that has sprouted into a grotesque tree, its cable wire roots hissing like snakes beneath the surface.
Prisoners in our own homes, prisoners in our own minds. The invisible unifying tool has alienated all humankind. Bask in the warmness of the glowing green screen, binge the ever-spewing entertainment, but don’t confront the big, bad world outside.
The antivirus is not for sale. Its venom swims freely through our veins, can’t be diluted now. It’s a part of us all. Let it burrow in the pockets of our being; let it sap the protein from our muscles so that we may atrophy into infinite idle bliss. Life. Is. Good.