I plant my ass in a contraption that propels me to a place that has many wares to choose from.
so I can find armor for a machine that connects me to citizens of the USA that I really don’t care about except for a handful of them.
This machine lets me know when I have run out of the material needed to exchange hands for the things I need.
The things I want do not matter. The things I need are food water and air. They all cost the material I do not have.
I dream of a place far far away from all that is crazy.A building made of wood that keeps me warm at night.Near a body of water that will allow me to catch my meals,and the forest that will allow me to hunt a precious meal one day a week.
Idle hands force old age faster than ever.Must keep busy and productive. As I slowly slip into dementia,I write down everything I need to know.And the people to remember.
I may not be here tomorrow.