You went and pulled out the ****... (hiccup) tux!
Hell yeah man! Dress for the party you wanna attend.
My man!

This old powder blue
Frilly collard tuxedo tee shirt
Has seen some **** I tell you what.
I got it from a man I knew who thought it was ******* super cool,
Got it for the bs boys at his restaurant to wear as a uniform. Now
I took offense
Thinking es was trying to make
A monkey out of me.
I was sad and feeling down from a bad break up I had drawn down, and I couldn't see how cool it'd be and I just wanted to blend in, in black, like all the rest who worked in town.

After that little episode I got fired (unrelated) and took to another road.
A few year later I found it rolled in the bottom of a bin of stuff that was old. I didn't HAVE To wear it anymore and so I wore proudly for how cool it was.

It's my favorite shirt. My party shirt. About a year ago, had te Gaul to cut the sleeves and crop the bottom. I tell you true I'd never owned a finer robe. It just felt right and people loved it and it became my self-imposed
Uniform for work (sometimes, not always, but for ye bigger shows)  

And came up with that line to explain the foolish look I strive for.

"Dress for the party you want to attend."

A mantra of rock'n'roll

Look good or look comfy or look sharp 'n' bold. But look like someone out to find a good time or don't go looking go nothin at all.

You need to stack some cash
And stop xscrollingx all the time
You gotta think about your attention as a commodity. They can buy it for nothing, or you can focus it on benefitting you: into your art or work or literally anything else.

- those are two really solid points. Like there's no response. You really broke it down.

[He steps outside to smoke the cigarette he's been holding, waving around as He spoke, for at least a few minutes, if not five- or even ten. He Sits and places his phone face down with intention, but his mind begins to spin again. Thoughts come swirling like autumn leaves twirling down an empty lane, upon an errant whirlwind blustering through a quiet evening, stirring just enough to sell you a memory of some absent something you want to need. But this is a painting; the thoughts actually came like a Tasman Devil cartoonish chaotic violent spiting and ******. Dusting up the place and tipping things over, then leaving out again the way he came. These thoughts of war and wage enslavement, or prison camps and violent ends, are prosaic-prophecies he believes, and he can't help but fear saying "I told you so." It's less fun when it was a warning.

And as his thoughts turn to the channels of control and the algorithms running things- he had a brief of how it ended; wat if they win; and he reached automatically for the distraction box with the screen.

Automatically he opened Facebook and flicked the screen to do thing. And would you believe, the first box thought digitally ingested was a infographic of dubious providence describing approval ratings of socialism / communism among the 19-29 year old demographic, in meme format. Its heading said, "18-39? Ok. Who's teaching this to our kids?" Then at the bottom a response was pinned:

You are. When people said, "Maybe people shouldnt have to take on astronomical debt to receive medical care." You said, "That's socialism!" When people said, "We shouldn't be burdening young adults who want to get an education with predatory loans" you cries, "Socialism!"

"You're the best marketing Socialism ever had."

This elicited a gut reaction of snide peace and arrogant delight; "thank god they get it" he felt as his stress level reset, "Things are gonna be alright."

His second thought was, "*******!They are good. This ******* thing was listening the whole time." He realised the algorithm (algorithms?) had fed him dopamine right on time and calmed him back from a frenzied thought parade that was marching slowly to a workable solution to the social ills of the day. And out of self-preservation it had interrupted that line of thought intentionally by ringing the bell of an ideological echo chamber, reinforcing a delusion of socialist paradise just on the other side of the horizon line at the other end of another sunny day, yet to dawn but coming inevitably. It's on its way;

we just have to wait.

He steps back in to share his revelation with his only friend who won't call him insane.

"The algorithms heard us stressing lol.

this stupid post it fed me out the gate done got me. straight up calmed me down before I even knew it was. They know exactly how to manipulate us all.

They've got so much information on our profiles now they can predict our thoughts before we have them. They just keep micro dosing control signals and inceptioning our day to day.

This ****** fed it to me to distract my mood from the indignation at the stress
Around me and the world of problems it's creating in order to keep us down

When are we gonna get mad enough. We're not mad enough yet and I can't understand why or how. We need someone who can reach the middle and show them that the powers that be don't give a **** about you and no one wins from what they're doing now.
But what if it's all too late. They're gonna make it so ha rd for us to just keep up that we won't have the time to chant them down.

What if we can't defeat the sycophantic garbage dead set on running the ship aground. It seems to me there gonna win. At least for a while. We haveto suffer it for it to sink in that this was a stupid path to take. Also the weapons of war at there disposal are so sophisticated now that black mirror seems tame. (Also: come on guys, did they really need a hint about that particular one, you think? Like for real, ****** drones? Jesus Christ, if they didn't have em already they sure as hell  have em now...)