I rolled out of bed feeling tired and low on energy from being up late watching the feed. Just one more I told myself and before I knew it the clock had hit four am before I finally let myself drift off for the night.
Didn't help my head was killing me, bad sleep hygiene they called it right? I saw a short video talking about it the other night.
The lonely nights gazing at the screen blurred into each other days becoming weeks becoming months then years.
Dad was in the living room watching the network which generated a new version of the The Sopranos finale made in America in which a gun man comes out of the bathroom and Tony quickly guns him down with an uzi before a small army of mafia goons enter the Holsten's to take him on in a heroic last stand.
I watched as the digitally resurrected corpse of James Gandolfini shot his way through countless men before looking at the camera “Families what its all about and I'm not going to let any of these bastards unseat me as the boss! We're going to war, to finish this.” as he looked at Carmela and kissed her.
Then Walter White from breaking bad entered the Holstens “So you're the big boss of New Jersey? I came all the way from Albuquerque, the names Heisenberg and I need your help to take out a man named Gus Fring...Do this and you'll be untouchable.”
The old man typed into the touchscreen to begin generating season seven, maybe this one would have a cross over with the wire, through I worry he's running out of ideas for prompts along with shows to pick apart for what ifs.
“Morning.” I shouted as I dragged myself into the bathroom to brush my teeth.
As I scrubbed I took out my pad “Generate Lo-jam pop rock something with Teal ocean wave pre future aesthetic.” I said as the service responded taking a few seconds to generate an entire playlist with album covers of random shapes of vague nostalgic imagery.
After washing up I returned to the living room “Can you change your little brothers food bag before you head out to work?” My dad asked apathetically before his attention returned to the Sopranos season seven.
Grabbing a gel pack from the cupboard I opened the door to Nicolas room, who was still inside his media pod, most likely watching HappyApple which generates educational kids content(tm).
Took me back since it was the same educational program I underwent when I was his age, after all its generative AI engine was built and approved personally by the TemuDisneyWonderbread company.
I remember my Grandfather told us about schools from back in his day where you had to leave the home to study when he was a kid, that was before the government de-funded them since innovations made such archaic things obsolete anyway.
After changing the bag I headed outside to grab an Amazon Tesla rideshare to work, during the ride the radio was tuned into GPT 7.02 digital generating a story about the recent efforts of the American regeneration organizations efforts to clean up the east coast radiation trench, a relic from the deepfake wars which was before my time but grandfather told me all about it and how a plague of misinformation caused world war three.
Passing through the city I saw some graffiti on a wall, yet somehow it reminded me of when I was a child, that I wanted to be an artist once.
Silly notion I grew out of thankfully, after all that's not a real job and besides we have machines to do all that stuff now.
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