I Feel Alive, Weirdly
It's getting really late now, I promised myself I wouldn't stay up later than needed. There must be something to do now.
Click.
OH MY GOD, MAIL! INTERESTING MAIL!
Click.
Oh wait, it's just some spam from a faceless corporate company wishing to give my manhood an extension. My manhood is not a house where a builder with three miles of buttcrack showing can add a piece. Leave it alone.
Delete.
Click.
Nobody is on Facebook, nobody is on Messenger. I must be the only person awake. Losers.
Click.
A pop-up has just alerted me that a woman of vague Eastern European origin would like to go on a date with me, then take me home and "make the sexy time." Sadly, I already know this is spam.
Click.
Nobody knows what it's like to feel alive. To be awake to the point of insanity is... weirdly satisfying. Back to Facebook to check on my pals who have not lived a real life.
Click.
Nothing. Total utter nothingness. This is desperate. I want to sleep, but my digital God says, "Sleeping is wrong. Stay a little longer. The Internet is your friend. You don't want to disappoint a friend, do you..."
Click.
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