The future arrives. Kicks down doors. AI rides shotgun. High on code. Promises poured. Like cheap bourbon. Everything free. Nothing cheap.
Energy free. Compute cheap as air. Jobs die in silence. No funerals. Slight aroma. Old bait. Whiff of bleach. Tech bros smug. Relax. It’s abundance!
Power beamed from space. No wires. No choice. No refunds. Your fridge smarter. Our freedom dumber. Cheap energy hums. Underfoot. Restless.
Phones whisper secrets. Never sleep. Jobs vanish. Drifting pixel smoke. Purpose now? Just a side hustle. Work is gone. Just not the need.
Abundance sells. Like salvation. No cost. Very heavy terms. Everything free. Nothing sacred. Surveillance grins. Behind digital curtains.
We search for soul. With AI therapy. Only find ads. Grief. Algorithms. Old gods die. On glistening silicon. Money fades. Control tightens. Hearts twitch.
You dream of rest. Wake up tagged. Your purpose? Replaced by prompts. Welcome. The new Eden. Silent shackles. Watch your step. Smile for the drones.
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Rejoice in the durability of creativity.
Hard to find a positive response.
But so well told Stephen.