Step 1: Request Lambo

Is it bottom of the stairs for me? Doomed am I, forever reaching up. Infinite ascension, a stack overflow in sheep's skin—a steady fall to the planes of regression. I would say history too, not unlike myself, is cursed. A bad seed, a bewitched arr 'n' gee roll. You and I, recursing, stuck in a while loop, ticks feigning advancement. We are not reinventing ourselves, but instead are forcibly rebirthed through circumstance alone. A cee-cee of the 'historically valued' default char, a supposed control-cee control-vee of the numen. It is here that we find ourselves, however, after manifold firmware updates and a persistent cache wipe neglect, doomermaxxed.

How does anyone expect me to complain—I am a stoic. And that is the crux, the monkey's paw perk spec; it may be plus ten strength, but alas, it is also minus ten mood. Is it functionally negligible? Hardly. A hard cope—softboy. But dare I say, if you tune your car right, nature will follow. It is a known. Position thyself. I quote "be not afraid"; shiny metals and functional plastics are nature's gift. Surrender to your yearning for hard edges, the crisp gloss, and bevels. You are the tough one, slightly cool and aloof. A depth of tragedy and a tinge of mystique. The romantic. ideal. Dark. Edgy. Slightly cringe. But today's cringe is tomorrow's poetry.

You channel an air of paradox, laissez-faire and try-hard—forever reaching, but never quite getting there. A vibe of cynicism, and perchance some resignation? Oh! And shan't we forget the side order of dystopian realism? All in all, it cuts deep. Maybe you do know where the real story lies; a brand-new supercar exterior, but the interior's vintage. Constant motion, perpetual updates. To what end… That's no longer a question, you're now aware it's all a shadow on the wall. But regardless of the grand illusion: you're not the glitch in the matrix you once believed to be.

Now this is what you tell yourself as you glide your hand over the glossy surface. A gentle tap. With your eyes in a confident deadlock you reaffirm: this bad boy, it's a beast. Meant to go fast. Won't go under 90, even if you try.

You laugh,

they laugh.

You laugh even harder.