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17h
I am bored. There’s nothing interesting to watch. I only hear in the phone are celebrity gossips, politicians’ unkept promises, accidents, and the stagnant decay of the nation. When I am scrolling through games that **** the time, nothing beats up the vacant expression plastered to my face. When I finish the quest–then there’s another. Always another. If you want the easy way, it costs real money. The tech companies want only my money and attention, draining my life into endless torture. It’s a rat race, but the race is the torture and pain I have to begin with since the day I am born. I always see on YouTube how the corporation workers chained up to their desks, slaves to their bosses’ whims. I wasn’t born in a billionaire’s penthouse nor an old-money family. I am birthed by my mother in a place where things should be competed. As my youth flew into this century, colors faded—only black, white, and blue lived and sometimes hiding in the shadows of once was. The world is a monotonous hell, where the devils thrive and everything is bought with pain.
Silvestre
Written by
Silvestre  19/Bigender/Philippines
(19/Bigender/Philippines)   
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