It had already begun, the robots were invading every space of my knowledge and consciousness, it was in the darkness of my dorm room sealed off
from the rest of society that I had succumbed to the social ills that had plagued me thus far. It sent me whirling into a green vortex
of whiskey and vomit, headfirst and haphazardly into the great portal of unnerving complacency. It was a surrealistic moment there in the
reception room, my stomach attempting to claw its way out of my throat and onto the floor. With every desperate attempt made by the poor
organ against the rotting bones within my body I felt the urge to cry in deeper and agonizing pain. The very linoleum of the floor
spiked up at me, thrashing against the constraints of perceived reality. The world was mad at me, it had deep contempt for the isolation
I had achieved within my room. Society was furious at me, the broken and discarded clog that managed to dislodge itself from the confines
of the machine. All angsty cliches aside, the contempt upon the nurse's face as she witnessed my vomit covered visage was enough
proof for my thesis.