Mark knew it would continue to persist being a bad feeling throughout the day unless he sought to better himself through physical exertion. Sometimes reading the words of tao helped immensely , but today was different. Onset by multiple days of little sleep, he could only feel the rage building and churning in his heart. His brain was perceptive enough not to show the outside world how terrifyingly clever he remained.
“Time to walk it off.” He thought as he broke out a smoke. “Hopefully these fags forever remain legal.”
He paced gingerly down to the post office to check the mail. He was not expecting much but the three day old new York Times he got delivered because he always liked living in the boonies. He had been everywhere just like Lynn Anderson and had found the rest of his country morph into one long department mall right in front of his eyes.
Once he walked three miles, he opened the door rapidly and in a huff. Finding the key in his pants pocket, he opened his box. He found the paper and one small package of very little weight.
“Oh yeah, I did use those litecoins at 4 in the morning last Friday.” He reminisced in his head.
Mark was one of the fortunate souls that was not allured in his youth by the physical vices the rest of his young cohorts craved. Lacking inhibitions was what they desired during consumption and consummation, a sense of tranquility was what he had an appetite for. So he dropped out of high school to find a way to remain high forever. Technology was his cure, yet now he found it more to be the disease. “We have the technology to call someone and see their face for free, yet all they do is use the modern day telegraph for $60/month.” He once thought.
How he came about this package he would tell very little a soul for he knew the authoritarian system would squash the currency if the masses found out how to utilize it. Letting authority rule was the security blanket society wanted and all he wanted was the peace in knowing that he could defend himself.