Sell out

all you need is an internet connection, an imagination, and a post office

I’m sorry for trying to sell you something, it’s crazy I know. See I live in this odd world, maybe you’ve heard of it, where you have to work to earn a thing called money which is really just some special half shiny paper. Then you use the paper to live. I’ve incarnated, for god knows what reason, on this planet where this system is in place. It’s wild, and no one seems to understand it. Make them something and they want it without having to give you any paper. Want you to work and work for nothing. You love what you do, so is it even work? They say no. They’re mad about the paper, mad that anyone wants it. But of course that’s ridiculous. In this world you need the paper to survive. They made it so.