I can see it in your eyes, the dark pools where your sanity swims in. You hate yourself as much as I do.
Have you ever seen a 1,000 CD Case Logic lying on the sidewalk? It’s upsetting. It’s like finding a corpse: someone made this, someone raised it, loved it, fed it, enriched it and, in return, was enriched by it. And now it’s lying here, unzipped, its contents spread over the sidewalk…
This article, which was a parody, has been removed. We apologize for any confusion.
Meaning: go to work in order to obtain USD currency, as manifested abstractly via bi-weekly direct deposits into my checking account—cash I never actually touch or feel, but only see deplete when I pay my mortgage, groceries, taxes, and occasional hookers. And come back blue. Return home every day from work chronically depressed because I am stuck in this mid-30s life defined by societal expectations, financial fear, acute loneliness, spiritual resignation, and emotional denial.