Stimulus I Pray To Thee

Stimulus, I Pray to Thee

    How exhausting is it to have a brain in this day and age? The loops of soundbites, the flashes of lewd images, the intrusive thoughts. I'm cooked to the core like a steak well done and my juice is gone and all that's left are fatty nuggets of info-dumping, melody-humming, soul-sucking, half-baked, trauma-inducing zygote-killing memories. I'm fiscally infertile for new content or consumption. They've ripped the virgin out of the olive oil and I need a cold press or a hexane bath to extract whatever's left of my humanity. Have you ever stared at a cold blue screen and read the words of utmost importance just for Doja Cat to play like a little lyre behind your ears? Have you ever focused on something you think you love, only for the thought of a thought of a thought to derail your total utter interest? Suddenly I'm on the phone again, suddenly it's been an hour, suddenly it's been a month and whatever I was supposed to do has flitted away into the past. I can't look at a book without drooling over a dopa-draining session. Give me the videos of the man decapitated. I want to see that woman again. Where's the comedy in my text book? Why isn't there a sound on this picture? 

Don't you see just how fucked everything is? Every image on your phone is embedded with a trending sound. Every video is sponsored. Every creator takes money from the Ubergods and the Amazonians and Monday.com so that they too can suck the life out of you. When was the last time you were on YouTube? Wasn't that ad almost your thirteenth reason? All I want is to watch a fucking video about the latest and greatest without paying for it. I'm spending time. I'm subscribing to the channel. I'm tying the rope around my neck. It's all for naught. 
Nothing is free, it's all a gain for someone. Not you, not me, but for someone. We fuel the economy. Your shake&bake consumerism fuels my car, fuels their businesses, fuels the economy. It's a loop. Do you want to play the stocks? No? You're the commodity. Your time is money, now more than ever. Does advertising really work? I look at any ad on the market and think "Hm. Now I'm not going to buy that." Am I alone in this? I used to be the capitalist's dream. I bought all kinds of useless, cheap, foreign-made, plastic fabricated garbage, but now I dread spending on a can of branded-beans because fuck the corporation that markets them. Eat a bag of dicks, Goya. 
So I'm sitting here, with years of dopa-dumping behind me, and I'm trying to focus on the big picture and study, but I'm on a laptop, and all I can hear is "With Teeth" by Nine Inch Nails slowly repeating behind me like I'm in a sewer drain, and my browser is open and I'm scrolling Reddit, and I just saw a flash of something slightly provocative, and then my heart is racing, and I look at the time, and my can of Zyns glow blue in my fruit bowl, and my coffee just kicked in, and my heart is racing, and I'm looking at the study material but I can't focus, and my phone vibrates and it's an email, but it doesn't say from who, and then Questrade sends me a message, maybe my stocks went up, maybe down, what's another five minutes to check it, then I open the phone and Instagram is open, so I scroll, and I see something funny, and I scroll, and I'm picking up the rope, and there's that influencer I like, and the knot takes two loops around, and I scroll, and I laugh, and the ceiling fan looks sturdy enough, looking at a page with deepfried memes now, ought to grab a stool, laugh at the funny man falling, cringe at the cat-boys, standing under the fan on a rickety step stool, Donald Trump nuclear bomb threat, scroll, sweating, the rope around my neck, and then a girl pops up and she's got a tiny bit of cleavage and I step off of the stool and I-

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