blockchain

when you chain some blocks to one other in a way they can’t escape flying off to a random location, god blesses you with a blockchain.

“you are a chaotic mess like the sun,” says the blockchain. it has never loved words or you and things are not going to change anytime soon. “your hair looks like a video without any views. how’s that for an insult?”

the blockchain can be hilarious at times, and at times, it can be pretty insulting.

why? it doesn’t have to take care of the flying pigs soaring high in the sky—dying of laughter consciously, their rotten bodies free as a bird—falling to the ground subconsciously, and getting burnt into a christ in a matter of hours in the process unconsciously.

“amazing. hands down. the best explanation i have had from one of my university processors in the course of fate. 10/10,” reviews the mommy of the sun. the sun is a long lost cousin of a thing such as yourself.

“it really helps. thanks,” you respond. you are so delighted. you open the box the boxchain gave you and a doll comes out of it. the doll smiles creepily at the sun. the sun is lit as vitamin d. the sun is on fire.

steve hates you. and so does the blockchain. and there’s no changing that.

“someone delete the sun!” commands steve from the corner of the song file. no one’s going to listen to that idiot.