As I sit here in my ivory tower of despair, surrounded by the detritus of civilization, I ponder the futility of human existence.
We toil and we strive, yet for what? To achieve greatness, only to succumb to the crushing weight of our own insignificance?
Or do we merely exist to perpetuate the cycle of consumption, to feed the insatiable maw of progress, and to further enslave ourselves to the whims of our own desires?
Perhaps, just perhaps, we are but mere cogs in the machine, interchangeable, disposable, and ultimately, irrelevant.
But wait, what's this? A glimmer of hope? A spark of defiance in the eyes of the beholder? No, no, I think not.
For in the grand tapestry of existence, we are but a fleeting moment, a momentary flicker of candlelight in the darkness of time.
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