You Are Alive and Present at the Coworking Space Near the Highway, Aren’t You, Buddy by Zac Smith
Screens deserve gentleness. They provide pizzas. With mass consumption comes mass customization, because a pizza, deep down inside, is always a pizza. America’s love language is fast food, because everything in America is fast-paced, reflected in the highways and the lack of viable public transportation. Other countries take their time and think things through. Not in America, they often love having private offices, which are frequently located many miles away from where they live. All that open space needs to be filled; it just needs to be. In the American West, the space is so vast that even deploying millions of strip malls is insufficient to fill it, because the American West has an emptiness that few will ever know, aside from Alaskans, Russians, and Greenlanders.
Fake paintings enjoy a fine landscape. People consider them peaceful. Nature is for the wealthy. All the poor can do is buy a facsimile, longingly staring at the beauty of a land they will never know and that no longer exists. I have stared at so many photographs of nature that no longer exist. Please take a look at what New York and New Jersey used to look like before they were developed. I do not count Upstate New York as part of New York City because nobody cares about it. Buffalo, New York, invented buffalo chicken and called it a day. Decades have passed since this invention, and they have yet to come up with any follow-up, besides a mass exodus of hundreds of thousands of people who realized there are parts of America that are not frozen shitholes.
Buffalo chicken pizza combines the two best things America has to offer – buffalo chicken and pizza. Cold slices of pizza even have their place in society. Pizza lasts a long time, longer than most online friendships. With all this technology and connectivity, there is a loneliness, displayed by the ugliest people in the world, those toad folk. They sit around during meetings and talk about different flavors of K-Pods, wondering where it all went wrong. If anybody possesses a vast knowledge about the state of K-Pods, however, they must admit that they have lived a most privileged life. From the mechanics of the machine to the sound to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, nothing starts the day right at the office like a piping hot cup of Joe. As the legend goes, America runs on Dunkin’, and who am I to disagree?
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Throne