Brian Kelly Irons

The world is a pressurized mass of dense magnetic particles, tumbling through the universe blindly, without a notion of their trajectory. With a single commonality…they are all searching for the same thing: instant gratification. No more substance. Gone is the gloriously attenuated intellectual conversation. We sit at the dinner table and fork through a pound of tuna casserole, and for what? So that we can all feel better about ourselves when we choose Diet Coke instead. We are all joyous spectators of the worst movie ever made, butter from the large popcorn splattered across our faces. We want to leave but we won’t because this is who we have become. I am lost in a sea of willful pestilence, and all I want to do is finish this stupid essay before the bell rings, go home and forget the entire day, until tomorrow.