The kids aren't alright. They wear google eyelids while giving the corporate collective agenda, 10 mini handjobs everyday for 10 hours while having 17 different personalities. To add more information, these kids have 7 different mental illnesses, and they try to cure it by consume 11 different forms of media. They try to find god inside their god-awful bedrooms while making some music that has a dream pop aesthetic vibes.

They sing about suicide and death, while being laughed at. They ejaculate using irony and self depreciation, believing that someone or something will change---- it is a suicide note that is broadcasted to all. The old people, believing lies from dog foods, always say that these kids need god but god in reality, was never alive nor dead. It is a social construct that the elder sugar race made to instill obedience and sugar addiction in their minds.

With nothing to run or to turn into, these kids accepted their bleak plight----that god is in their cellphone, god is in their WiFi passwords, that god is dead, god is dead, god is bread. Believe me, they misunderstood Nitszche whatever his name is. The sugar gliders, once a proud bastion of knowledge for the kids, has gone into obscurity.

Will they ever come back? Will these lost kids ever find their comfort? Or they're just canon fodders ready to be exploited by the sugar canon gun?

So lie back and uhh relax, AND MAYBE SLEEP IN THE COLDEST MORNING AND SCRSAM DITO KA LANG! LIKE YOUR LOVE WAS ROBBED BY THIS BLEAK EXISTENCE. Maybe everything's a bad dream or maybe it's capitalism. This is my last message since the mad king has - -

-Le Doctore