He was part of a loose, widespread cult known as America which subscribed to the belief that the investment of a portion of each paycheck for the purchase of small electronic devices could balance the ills brought on by social media, bad genes or otherwise by providing a variety of platforms.
His daily life-experience was best described by a persistent thought which tried to filter its way through his head as he walked along Michigan Avenue, how each car in this morning's rush hour seemed to flow directly into him and disappear within the dark, echoing forests of his past instead of harmlessly passing by him, as if he were a portal from which nothing ever returned, though the image of every object hovered before his face, in his wide line of vision, as if on the event horizon of a massive black hole, making it difficult for him to see what was coming and where he was going.
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