[Fiction] Appeals to the base lusts that hide in everyone no matter how respectable on the surface. — Philip K. Dick

You're killing yourself with cynicism. Your idols got taken away from you one by one and now you have nothing to give your love to.

There is evil! It's actual, like cement.

We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope. Falling into an interminable ennui.