(no subject)
Rigamortis sets in escaping my body remaining oblivious to my physiological surroundings momentarily writing distracting my mind from all the atrocious destructive natures of humanity and desecration of life existent in this cruel 11 dimensional world. Human population having “exponential stability” is laughable observing humanities bacterious behaviours ignorant of natural resource consumption. Toxic miasmas spilling from mechanical lungs forming cobalt skys corroding the away the atmosphere causes my asphyxiation. Plutocrats only acknowledging there own temporary existences plaguing the green gia earth boils my blood. Rainforest desecration plundering habitation reaping the land replacing deciles salinified waste-grounds petrifies my heart. The seemingly irrelevant agonising incarceration and horrific carnage of miraculous/inferior beings darkens my soul.
What is the point of reading this book when the ending is already revealed.
>exponential stability< “Dhaaaar… we haven’t had a population problem in the past, so what are the chances of having one in the future?” (mocks humanity: note patronising double quotation marks)