As the words have lost their capacity to memes it’s hard to tell something no one’s has thought before. It’s even harder to get to the right time and place, however, those who always grind and push now jump into the ocean of hope at exponential speed. Electricity bills rise as well as confidence that the construction You have invested in will give your rights to augmented individualism in unknown future. Examples that embrace your daily timeline with mirages of the successful individuals drag the collective avalanche of speculations and its red-pilled passengers just hope to get out at the right moment.
The future visions don’t sound like acid jazz anymore and—whatever sound the future holds—it won’t be audible in space. But before, each garage is seen as a forge, each latte, and each cigarette—as rocket fuel. Falling down a chart staircase Martin Eden sank in depths of the ocean, and at the instant, he knew he was surrounded by darkness, he ceased to know. In streets of cities, people join in chants while waiting for the flood, waiting for darkness, waiting for the end of tuna steak era, waiting for instastory to upload. Imprints stay in clouds while whispering inevitability. Reality is not just “art’s biggest problem” – it’s a stinging headache for each that seeks experiences.