Fading into the dim of light, scribbling discoursed jargon within these margins of twilight, zoned out in this depiction of imagination we’ve based this fictitious life on.  Writing lies on pieces of paper, in this paper perfect world full of paper people who are as fake as the lies they tell, see, it consumes us all.  Consumers who feed into the standards they squeezed us into without justification, just acception of the exceptionally well inceptions they’ve brainwashed into our minds.  A society that cares more about the materialistic means than the finds of intelligence in our everyday lives.  So I ask you society, when did we all die?