Our humanity is increasingly buried under a corporatist crust. We are a substrate and something to be stepped on and used, raw material for "real" people, those who own significant capital and whose existences therefore count.
Eventually, fully mined, we are relegated to landfills as our utility wanes. We are husks, leftovers, tailings and waste. It's a misuse of money to support us. In our subterranean exile our lives are suspended and we can't move forward.
We are memories even to ourselves, the walking dead of capitalism, where productivity defines life below the level of the subdeities of corporatism and the supreme beings, the super-wealthy. We are cached, in a zombie netherworld.
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