Do you ever get the feeling that reality is on drugs? Because I get the feeling that reality is on drugs. Like seriously, guys, Donald Trump is the leader of the free world. And Joe Biden wants to fight him in a WWE style cage match or something. I don’t even think that Rick and Morty could have written a more bizarre episode.

And everyone kind of feels like something is amiss, but we all don’t really know what to do about it. We have general and vague ideas about how we want to change the world, but it doesn’t seem like we can figure out the specific thing that we want to change. Because their is such a godawful shit pile of fucked up shit that it’s difficult to know what shit pile we want to start shoveling.

There seems to be a consensus among most millenials that we want universal healthcare. Most of us think this is a great idea, but unfortunately Reality is shitfaced wasted and yelling about how we can’t take it’s guns away right now, and he’s also muttering something about how Universal healthcare would turn us into communist Russia.

And I don’t mean to get all political and shit, but the way we live our lives is the biggest political statement that we all make on a daily basis. And the fact that most people I talk to agree that we should pay taxes for universal healthcare seems to indicate that “Reality ” doesn’t match up with some of our core beliefs.

We believe that people should be entitled (yup that fucking buzzword) to have their diseases cured through a system where we share our resources in order to maximize the benefit for all. And the people who disagree with me at least can agree that taxes suck, and at the very least, they should go towards something useful. Because everyone in America has a horror story or two about getting charged way too much to be in the hospital, and we all agree that healthcare costs way too much. We are also in near universal agreement that curing the sick shouldn’t be tied up in a profit driven industry.

But drunk ass Reality thinks that this is a great idea. And Reality keeps it here because reality likes to get good cocaine on the weekends and it can’t do that without making massive profits off something that people truly need. Ever notice how ugly Reality gets when it’s tied up with things people need?

And maybe that’s the problem with our little reality that we have going here. We make money to get things we want instead of using our money for things that we all need. It’s fine to want things and everything, but luxuries are a highly overrated thing and we don’t need them as much as we like to think.

Shelter is something that we pay way too much for, so living in a van and camping in the woods is a great way to live right now. But drunk ass Reality keeps yelling at me about how I need to get a job so that I can pay bills to people I don’t even know so that I can help society create jobs or something. Plus I can get shitfaced with Reality on Friday and scream TGIF after I’ve helped the rich get rich and kept myself poor.

Ever notice how rich people believe in Socialism too? They just believe that Socialism means that a few people should get tons of money for providing people with a means to support themselves while they keep most of the motherfucking money.

Now Reality is really worked up and screaming about how we all have to work our asses off and give our valuable time to other people because they worked hard to get to where they are at. And that I won’t get laid being a broke ass wanna be musician, comedian, writer dude. And now Reality is like got ya there didn’t I? I guess, but there is more to life than getting drunk and laid and having tons of money. I mean right? Kind of at least.

And that’s where reality takes another shot and smugly walks off because we all want to get drunk and laid and have tons of money. And saying that you don’t means that you’re a liar, but methinks that there is more to us than simply having our surface needs met. Because we are the ocean baby, and our waters run far deeper than just the satisfaction of our basic needs.

At this point reality scoffs and calls me a stupid hippy and that I’m being “phony deep.” And that I’m just projecting my own insignificance into the world by saying that we need purpose and drive to live. And love too. But money can buy love in Reality’s opinion. Diamonds prove your love better than anything else in Reality’s opinion, but if you don’t have money you can actually just give really good hugs.

Again, Reality just laughs and says that hugs are overrated and that I’m a dirty hippy.

And I say “Didn’t you ever have a dream, Reality? Do you remember what it was like before we decided that everything was about money and jobs and bills and things? You must have wanted something else besides your comfy cozy corporate accounting job.”

At this point Reality has just had another shot of whiskey and he breaks down and starts crying. “I wanted to change the world when I was young too. I thought that we could all learn to live in this world together without fighting. Without money. I believed in sharing, I really did! I loved John Lennon, and the Beatles, and I still cry when I hear Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. I had a band when I was younger. We almost made it. We really did, but then I had to get a job because I had a kid and my wife didn’t want to live on the road anymore. The other guys had good jobs already so they didn’t want to keep going with it. I thought I could change the world, I really did, but this is what it is right now.”

And then I comforted reality and gave him a hug and said “It’s never too late to change. Let us dreamers take care of the world for a little while. We promise that we won’t take your jobs. And we can compromise on some other things too. Oh, I’m also I’m gonna need some of the drugs you’re on. Because no one has any clue as to how you came up with the idea of Donald Trump being the president. Because that is some seriously goofy bullshit.”

He laughs through his sobs and says that all he is high on is fear and hatred and loathing. And then he winks and says “Cocaine is a helluva drug.”

And I say “Go home reality, you’re drunk.”