The future is bleak. Eight balls only show the number 8. Your identity gets stolen by a program, but the program is self-sustaining and not linked to any hacker, and the only reason it steals your identity is to turn your records into a synthesizer based song that gets blasted in the sleep deprivation sessions at human-camp.
To avoid all this, or at least, to come to terms with an inevitable reality, come to see Robot Junkie, and let us drive you into a state of hysteria.
A panic so mad you'll think scared is calm and fine actually means you're not upset with your boyfriend, instead of whatever it is it actually means to you now that you refuse to tell him because you know he'll just disappoint you anyways when he gives a half-effort at bettering himself.
Robot Junkie.
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