Perfectly coiffured reality of the senses, hollow dreams

As you go by your day the immediate reality of the senses tells you everything is OK in the West; you got comfort, thick duvets, electricity, nicely packaged.. shit, plenty of food, soothing sounds and images on the telly, (fake) cheer left and right,… your limbic system thinks it’s OK. Your senses say you’re fine. You’re sheltered, immediately protected by an artificial ecosystem.

But when you wake up in the morning, and the conceptual brain wakes up, you remind yourself of the abstract horrific reality, how it’s all shit, and it’s terrifying. The rest of the day is spent forgetting. Because you have to, in order to stay sane, and in order to function in this system to earn your bread. Because if you don’t, if you don’t go with the fake cheer and fake comfort, you’re tossed out of it, on the streets, and then you live in the abstract reality stripped of its opiates, and it’s like death. You’re forced to be a well fed, entertained pig. To put a smile on and chat non sense to your neighbours and chew the Monsanto food they give you and replace the flavour of the world with sugar, and the fresh air with perfumed candles, and real humanity with virtue signalling.

When you wake up in the morning and the abstract architecture of reality is uploading in your brain, you know you’re a rat in a cage. And you know you’re anything but happy. It feels like in Black Mirror. And there’s just no escape.