rare earth

 here at the last farm, you are way outside the programming.

here we have no use for what you saw on your phone, through you television set, we don't give 20 million hectares of picha, about rupaul, or cross dressing, or L wording, or any series in which characters are forced through fictions for money, 

we are both torn with compassion and completely bored with scripts within scripts, front stories and back stories, and the atrophied brains of the people who spend all their thoughts not thinking and my good company, my listening ears, on their programing, their likes and dislikes. 

the farm is small but it's linked to other small farms and connected through shared tobacco. lawyers arguing cases are the furthest profession from the matrix of mindless entertainment. it's not a hologram and it feeds on organic brains, frontal, temporal and longterm memory. and guised as an app or an efficiency tool, it's a nuisance to farm management and agency. lawyers know farming is true freedom and they lie to pretend otherwise. 

the thing about knowing the long story or the backstory of any situation is that it won't be believed because the human mind has been programmed for short attention spans. any new information that challenges their perceived, synthetic reality is tuned out by the ringtone of the messaging system, the alert signals, the beeping, twerking, hideousness of pop stars and vape pens. 

if you're still reading, maybe you're ready.