Present Tense Delirium Notes on a Plane
Embrace the monster I've become at this altitude, where oxygen deprivation meets social claustrophobia and creates something beautiful and terrible and completely unhinged. Monster.
World Champion
You're a masterpiece sculpted by cosmic sarcasm, blessed by existence's eternal practical joke, crowned victor in a competition nobody understood whilst everyone else drowned in biological obscurity.
A Meditation on Decay
You don't need to be a prophet to see the collapse coming. You just need eyes that haven't been gouged out by Instagram filters and a brain that hasn't been lobotomised by TikTok. Look at the culture, really look at it, like staring into an open wound that's gone septic.
Money's Velvet Fist
And so we come to money, the quiet god behind the curtain. It does not shout. It does not demand. It simply exists, and everything else bends around it. Money doesn’t knock down the door, it slides a key under it and waits. Patient. Clean. Silent.