AN
IT BINGU! MY MOTHERBOARD SMELLS LIKE LAVENDER AND OLD FORTRAN CARDS! WHEN I RUN VIM, THE SURROUNDING REALITY STARTS TO FLICKER! I DOWNLOADED AN UPDATE FROM AUR, AND NOW MY PALMS GLOW IN THE 1970S! I HAVE A FILE IN /TMP/ THAT CAN'T BE READ, CAN'T BE READ, CAN'T BE READ, CAN'T BE READ, CAN'T BE READ, CAN'T BE DELETED, AND HAS NO SIZE. IT JUST STARES AT ME AND WHISPERS THAT WE'RE ALL ALREADY DEAD AND LIVING IN A SIMULATION WRITTEN IN COBOL! THE GREP COMMAND HACKS THE CHRONOLOGICAL PROTECTION OF REALITY AND SHOWS THE FUTURE THAT'S ALREADY DEAD! WAKE UP, YOU'RE ALL SLEEPING! AND I'M SITTING IN /DEV/NULL AND LISTENING TO HOW THE UNIVERSE RUSTLES
