This is what it’s like in the specter factory

It’s been said that our consciousness and knack for development is what sets modern humanity from the rest of our savage earthling brethren. While apes and quadrupeds scratch their asses and laze about all day, we gather our tools and craft masterpieces.

Nice thought in theory, but by that logic any unemployed, disabled, and lazy bastard could be grouped with the savage beasts.

Where does that leave me?

I guess I’m just a sucker in the specter factory

So crisp, so vivid does everything appear, I could reach out and grab a treasure. Yet my fingers slip through any object I desire. My presence does not occupy much mass. I Fear I may need an upgrade as soon as possible but I have no physical port to jack in and my trust in The Machine has waned dramatically over time.

If I were to ignore these facts, this is the best day of my life.

I guess I’m just a sucker in the specter factor

None of us care about longterm satisfaction as long as there are immediate gratification options. A brief surge of adrenaline, getting you higher and higher… then Boom. It’s gone. The way up The Ladder is paved with crackpot scheiße and requires a certain level of patience. It’s possible. But instead we use our tools for different matters. A voice subtly commands us each day: Grab your screwdriver, lackey! There are bolts to be screwed.

Inaudible but it’s there, every day.

I guess we’re all just suckers in the specter factor

Oh? Oh.