RSS3 & CrossBell CoFounder Usagi 🫡

A piece of news

Worker, tool, corporate slave, internal competition 996, the solidification of class and the wealth gap, mid-life crisis, exploitation and self-exploitation, everything is driven by utilitarianism, no value if it cannot be exchanged for money, no meaning if it cannot be realized, striving and struggling to divide the cake has evolved into intensifying harm and grabbing the cake, the value given by spirituality, creativity, or self-imposed departure from the norm often cannot cure hunger, to survive, you must use me and I must use you. Willing to be abandoned, deformed, and marginalized, in fact, it is difficult to take a step outside of being a fighter, suffering in silence. Several years have passed, and there is no increase of even one centimeter in youth, energy, imagination, and realization, and there will be no more. Although the utopia in parallel worlds will eventually be realized, we still have to wait for a long time. Forty years later, you finally live in a large flat, the rich and the richer have long immigrated to the moon and Mars, when you open your eyes, it is a sea view, when it opens its eyes, it is a planetary view, your body becomes an environmental purifier for the earth, a high-level worker ant, selling cheap lives to advance to selling middle-class lives, selling wealth and prosperity lives, it has already uploaded consciousness and prepared to be revived on Kepler star after being frozen for two thousand years. When your grandson finally becomes a local elite, a giant spaceship arrives after a jump, telling you that it is the Galactic Relocation Office, and the earth is going to undergo construction and relocation. You, a worker who cannot fly out of the atmosphere, quickly move out of the old shabby houses in the seven continents. In the last scene, you remember being launched into an unknown place in a second-hand spacecraft worth two hundred million that you saved up for, your world is completely over, the moon has a two-hundred-year limit, you open your Apple brand watch for the thousandth generation, and participate in the lottery to snatch an interstellar battery to sneak into Mars. The oxygen can last for thirty years, the self-circulation of the spacesuit is eaten and eaten, and you and a group of people who are about to die are crowded together until old age, batches of space junk recede from your sight, and you stare into the boundless darkness, drifting like this. Falling.

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