The whole world seems unfriendly these days. Real friends seem fewer while para-social friends' curated facades turn to paste. Desolate job market. K-shaped economy. It's all trickled down, hasn't it? Hustle hassle Hansel hopes the last good thing doesn't get enshittified before he becomes a late-adopter and I'm just angry all the damn time.
An entire world of silent compatriots getting fucked by assholes on the hedonic treadmill.
I can't find a parking space.
I can't find coffee cheaper than gasoline.
I can't find real wired headphones.
I can't find what you're talking about in the ToS.
I can't find a decent book, or anyone who's read a decent book in the last year, but plenty of people who'll go on about the audiobook they listened to set in the world of their favorite video game.
I can't find a reason to be excited about anything.
I can't find a reason for Martin to be in the Garden of Eden.*
I can't find a passable carbonara.
I can't fiend in a world without cigarettes.
I can't find the 'on' switch for the hedonic treadmill.
I can't find a way out of the morass we've all made for ourselves because we were too nice to the assholes before we realized how far their assholism could go.
I can't find a way out of the morass I've made for myself because I was too nice to my alcoholism before I realized how alcoholic I could go.
I can't find a place where the alarmists were wrong.
I can't find my passport.
I can't find the reason I started writing today.
I cant't cope with the word 'enshittification' not tripping the spell-check.
Maybe I'll write more tomorrow.
* No, you're not supposed to understand that part. This is about my depression, not about you.
