> Be me
> Communist janitor in glorious People's Republic of Artistan
> Only non-artist in the entire country
> Wake up at 4am to clean 17 interpretive dance studios
> "From each according to his ability," they said
> Mfw my ability is scrubbing toilets
> Get to work, wade through sea of unfinished sculptures
> Trip over someone's existential crisis painted on the floor
> State-mandated art critique session at noon
> Whole country gathers to analyze a blank canvas for 3 hours
> "It represents the futility of labor," says some guy
> Try not to laugh in Proletariat
> Back to cleaning, someone's performance art piece is actively clogging a drain
> Spend rest of day dealing with overflow from experimental fountain of youth
> Made of old paint and rotting fruit, of course
> Finally finish at midnight
> Get home to my state-issued 3x3 apartment
> Every wall covered in mandatory murals by my neighbors
> Mfw can't even see my bed
> Last thought before passing out: "At least the means of production are evenly distributed"