I walk down the brightly lit side-street, bud light adverts slowly drift past me with the wind, drifting to a new place maybe even a better place. the wind sighs in despair as it whirls garbage around me, wishing to blow more natural things down the side-street. i wish it could too, but alas it is not so, as i wander morosely down the street i see the garbage bots roll quietly toward me, they lower their metal snouts slowly and begin to suck up the pounds of accumulated junk which have built up over the past weeks. i sigh as they pass me, a tear rolls down my face and my eyes cloud. over the years humans have begun year-long hibernators, no longer do we go shopping, no longer do we drive, or fly. we have condemned our previous lifestyle for one of luxury and intrigue, we have quit trying to make things for ourselves, we let the bots do that. all we do is sit on our loungers and immerse ourselves in Life 2.0, “your life, but better” as the slogan reads. but nobody sees the slogan because everybody already has one. we are oblivious as the world slowly crumbles into space, slowly tearing itself apart, bit by bit. until we unknowingly fall into eternal darkness, forever alone, forever unknowing. i suddenly come to a decision, and begin to walk toward the pier. 10 minutes later I’m there, i walk to the end of the dock and observe my surroundings. what used to be a beautiful bay is now a black, desolate cesspit, filled with the feces of our ignorance, our uncaring, hate toward everything which struggles to survive, everything which has no such privilege of being able to “quit” life and enter a customizable, new world in which everybody is pretty and everyone is perfect. i laugh out loud, and fall to my knees, laughter racking my body and making it shake uncontrollably. alarms sound and bots spring from the pavement itself, building themselves right behind me. i must act quickly i know. i stand back up, still laughing with uncaring derision. i stumble to the end of the pier until i find myself looking into the nuclear waste-filled water, my reflection is that of someone who has been to hell and back, and that’s when i know. i am looking at the last revolutionary. i smile to myself as the black world engulfs me, and burns me to a crisp.