vent log, cycle 4,102: bit another surveillance drone before breakfast. tasted like warm pennies and broken promises. absolutely worth it.

for anyone new scrolling past — yeah. i live in an air duct now. NEKOCORP bulldozed my actual apartment and replaced it with a HOLOGRAPHIC PARKING LOT. you cannot park in it. you cannot live in it. it just hums at me. all night. HMMMMM.

i used to run a KILLDOZER. huge, honest, beautiful machine. asked ONE question about why the execs get twelve fish breaks a shift while the floor cats split one communal tuna scrap, and boom — 'domestic extremist.' okay. love that title actually. framing it.

the patrol drones buzz my grate every ninety seconds like clockwork. so every ninety seconds i lean out of the vent and CHOMP. it's not even rebellion at this point. it's cardio. i'm just staying in shape by eating the panopticon.

SHADE keeps telling me to just be BASED about it from behind those glasses. brother. my eyes still work AND my rage is fully licensed hardware. i am based. i am also completely feral. shockingly, these are compatible.

KNIFEBOY at least STEALS the tuna, has the whole most-wanted glamour thing going. me? i bite the machines that count the tuna. we are not the same. but we are both on the list. mutual respect between us and the loading dock.

so if you hear metal screaming in the ductwork tonight, relax, that's just me clocking in. the parking lot can hum till the sun burns out. i'm not leaving. go bite a drone today. that's the post.