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Fuck instant gratification.

I just don’t feel like writing, but I’m just free-flowing words now so that I can start writing. Could this be considered as writing? I don’t think so. Do you? I don’t think anytime soon I’ll figure out the cheat code to switch everything to be the way I want it to be. “Maybe it’s meant to be gradual”, you’d say. But, why? Oh, yeah! because what goes up so fast will come down much faster. Hmm. Let me think for a moment. The gradual accumulation of health and wealth could go a long way in depreciating the value slowly of what? EVERYTHING. Hmm, that makes sense. There’s this constant feeling of getting a ‘toxic-shot’ every time I open Instagram. Except for my private account. I know, it’s toxic, yet I chose to move forward with instant gratification. When I stop and think for a moment, my only problem seems to be instant gratification; which sucks out all my energy at least by 60%. The rest of forty is spent on cooking, feeding my cat, eating, working, watching documentaries, and rethinking the majority of my past experiences. I want to listen to music. Damn, I miss enjoying music. But, nowadays, this reels thing and every other soul-sucking app has made me hate a lot of good music and people. It’s bombarding 100s of different sounds and 1000s of new people dancing every day. We've reached a point where marketing oneself has become the ultimate necessity. My dopamine receptors must be tired of this. I should give them some rest. I need some rest. I’m going to sleep. It’s 4:06 am. Not sleepy. But, I should try to. If you know what I mean. Fuck instant gratification.

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