Is America Un-Alived?

Up in the sky, chemtrails write the script of our end of days. On the streets below, un-alived and broken souls stumble, scrolling to their doom. Some poor folks stand dazed on sidewalks, frozen from fentanyl because moving forward in life has become impossible. Pot smoke is the ubiquitous incense of the city.

Better to be numb.

Other people carve their pain into their faces with tattoo needles or express their rage in misguided social justice causes. They don’t know which river or what sea they are screaming about, because it's really their ineffable personal anguish they are expressing. Vaccine-injured minds were crippled at birth in a demonic sacrament.

One in 13 boys now.

There are no heroes now. Just influencers, selling their souls to the highest bidder. Nothing is sacred and nothing profane. Karens screech their regrets and failures at the Goldstein-du-jour. It is too painful for them to face the truth- The person they really hate is themselves.

OnlyFans sell their sacred bodies with joyless smiles to pathetic men addicted to fake love in high-tech temples of the unholy. Soy-soaked boys live pixelated Peter-Pan lives and are told to question if they are even male. Its no wonder so many believe they are not. Our black mirrors reflect AI-warped images of our past and present, designed to make us hate ourselves. So we do.

Our gods are dead, but our hunger for spiritual connection is still strong.

Can we salvage the soul of America