Greetings From The Future!
*Before Consuming the Future You Should Know
That the future is opinions that are not allowed to be shared in any way. I have, thanks to evasive maneuvers of primitive man, evaded the higher order of police for the past few days to secretly bring you this blog. If they caught me they could infiltrate my brain and re-arrange my entire thought process into a mushy mush. I bare this information not as a warning but as information. You should see what I have seen.
I just want to say right now that the future fucking rules. I just saw a guy with a double neck tie. That’s right, the double neck tie prediction in Back to the Future II is correct and flourishing in the year 3092. And all the while I’m writing this, I’m writing it with my mind, projecting a series of thoughts onto an advanced Super Luminary Hydrogenated Pocket Screen. The thoughts are captured by a photon imaging device that emits a high frequency of light out of my forehead. In this light’s particles my thoughts flow as free as information in a computer. And these may be transferred where ever a host, such as my Super LHPS, may be.
Rather than eating food, pretty ladies dressed in only what your mind imagines, bring you a pill. The pill disperses a series of fats, proteins, and other nutrients throughout your body. Not only does it sufficiently nutrinomize you, but it also gives you an entire simulation of what the meal would be like eating it with your favorite celebrity. I chose Christopher Lloyd just to tell him I am in the future. He just kept saying “Great scott!” over and over until the dinner was over. Some glitches still occur within the dinner program.
When I introduce myself to people they say “Bondorazomariocoaza.” At first I was almost offended until everyone continued to say it. The future is so friendly! Everyone smiles because if you don’t the government will administer a pill to you that simulates shame and humility.
I sit by the mechanical trees that breathe the way heavy machines do. The rubber bark that has been worn off reveals the trees inner machinery. I listen as the trees blow and creak. The night sky, which is the only thing that reminds me of the past, glows trails of white against space’s black.
A helicopter comes in from above and lands next to me. You’re under arrest. Filtration process begun. Do not disturb public’s brains. I’m looking up at the sky. I’m looking at the moon. Filtration process, re-arrangement in order, do not struggle the flows of time waning struggle error disruption. Do not struggle you are under arrest.