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WpMetadataReadComplete Mon, Nov 21, 2016<5 mins
We are empty people. Lost, too caught up in our own sadness to notice that anyone is sad at all. The world turns and nothing changes. People are afraid of what they don't know. And no one knows pure happiness. No one knows freedom. They'd vote it away in a heartbeat if they could, and just send their children, generation after generation, down the same old lonely road.
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You know what? No one wants to admit it, but we're all running out of room. People are blind. We're too many. Every year, more of us pile onto this rotting planet. Bodies, faces, minds pushing, shoving, breathing, eating, consuming. But what are we really? Resources. And guess what? Resources expire. We can't just keep packing in more and more. People are already useless. We've been useless for a long time, and yet we're allowed to walk around, pretending we matter. Pretending we aren't just feeding into this endless cycle of death.

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