The Inner Monologue

Imagine if a Wikipedia page on ‘modern disillusionment’ got drunk, started ranting at a party, and refused to leave until everyone admitted they’re all corporate-owned NPCs. It’s a mix of snark, existential dread, and cultural evisceration, served with the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in a ‘Please Like and Subscribe or You’re a Monster’ bow.

We’ve got:

• Financial conspiracies (your utility bill is scamming you, but sure, keep autopaying).
• Social commentary (your neighborhood’s HOA is a feudal system, your sports team is a Ponzi scheme, and yes, you should touch grass outside your state).
• Pop culture takedowns (hit songs are just nostalgia taxidermy, and Hollywood is a circus where the clowns write the checks).
• Self-aware hypocrisy (I call you a sheeple while monetizing rage clicks—we’re all part of the problem, babes).

It’s for people who enjoy being intellectually flogged while secretly wondering if they’re the idiot in the rant. So, welcome! Or don’t. I’m not your dad—unless you’re into that kind of thing, which, hey, no judgment (but also, some judgment).“

TL;DR: It’s a blog. Read it or don’t. Your attention span’s probably too fried for it anyway.**