Life At 8AM

 I'm not happy, not relaxed, not comfortable, and I rarely feel well. I can't change who I am, who I was, or stop thinking about the past. I have a hatred of people and the boring sterile contemporary world they've created. I now live in exile from my home, and I'm almost positive that we live in a simulation. A boring and repetitive simulation where the vast majority of its inhabitants are iZombies, tethered to a device that controls their thoughts, what they like, buy, say, and eat for breakfast. There doesn't seem to be an off switch to this simulation, no control - alt - delete. Maybe this isn't a simulation, maybe it's actually hell.

 I might be worried if I didn't this thought going through the minds of others at 8am on the subway.