What will I say?
I live in an era where everything I do is jotted in a whiteboard and is shown to the world. It is an era where breathing, is now, a luxury. Sitting too straight is fake and slouching is an illiterate act. We are dolls. Played by skilled ventriloquists, molded and dependent to the movement of a hand. We say what they want us to talk and move what they want us to move.
To the people who can see the strings, kindly cut them.