California Rubiales.
Rubiales California.

Now it’s 1984, knock knock on your front door.
It’s the suede denim secret police.
They have come for your uncool Niece.

For the most part I think that I have given up caring about the salami slicing of what was the society that I knew and am just ghoulishly waiting for the schadenfreude when reality hits home.

Really horrible view I know, but there really is no real avenue for grown up discourse anymore and the reason we will get more and more populist leaders elected.

It’s just one big “whatever” for me from now on.