I awake to a cacophony of notification sounds from the various social media platforms of which I am a member. Reddit reports the day's left-wing propaganda. Twitter the rights. Tinder reminds me I have a date this Wednesday with a woman I have never met. OnlyFans alerts me to the fact that my subscription has run out and Instagram informs me that Debbie Benson's dog has died. Good, I think to myself. I always hated that ♥♥♥♥♥.

Debbie, I mean. The dog I was always ambivalent towards. Facebook doesn't notify me of anything, because I deleted my account once the ratio of boomers on the platform reached critical mass. Not that I have a problem with boomers, per se. It's just that I must be at least seen as hating them, because generational tribalism is very much in vogue.

After consuming five times the daily recommended intake of soy during my breakfast cereal, I make my way to the local Starbucks cafe for my daily caramel frappuccino.

Once I reach the front of the unnecessarily long queue, I am served by a non-gender conforming staff member whose various anti-racism and anti-sexism iconography juxtapose nicely with her unbridled hatred of me for the color of my skin and the XY chromosome configuration of my DNA.

I didn't realize blue whales could survive outside of water, I think to myself.

I'll have my usual, I say in a tone so friendly that it borders on passive-aggressive.

Oh, and I'll have it, eh, skinny, I continue, making sure that I look her dead in the eye when I say the word skinny.

After failing to jump on the property ladder at the age of 11, my only remaining hope of financial freedom is investing in various crypto schemes and NFTs.

A moment of sheer panic as I realize my NFT portfolio has lost 99.7% of its worth in two days.

Who would have thought that an asset with an infinite supply would lose value like that?

To take my mind off of the day's financial losses, I played GTA 5 online with some of my fellow crypto entrepreneurs that I met in the Hustlers University Discord group.

The dopamine release I get when I murder people virtually is only exceeded when I murder people non-virtually.

After getting banned from the murder simulator for using too many bad words, I check my phone to see that the remaining 0.3% of my NFT portfolio's value has been decimated.

I scroll through social media in bed before I sleep.

The blue light ages my skin and interferes with my circadian rhythm, but the nihilism that I have internalized reminds me that nothing really matters anyway, thus allowing me to rationalize these objectively bad lifestyle choices.

In those precious few moments between putting my phone down and falling asleep, I am finally left alone with my thoughts.

Sometimes my mind will wander to the times before society became cringe.

When people would hate each other based on their personalities, not their various tribal identities.

When color-dyed hair indicated an interest in skateboarding, not a mental illness.

And just as I begin to hope that this world may one day be possible again.