these fuckin monks, man…
"these fuckin monks, man…" – email from Cyberpunk 2077. Wondering what our monk chooms are up to? Zilch. That is to say, the same shit as usual.
Text
Wondering what our monk chooms are up to? Zilch. That is to say, the same shit as usual. Pace back and forth back and forth under that statue, meditate, mumble something, meditate some more, in general go about their monk business. We ain't gonna learn jack this way. I'm about to start pushin em for answers, literally if need be. You know... who are you? Who am I? Why are we all here? What the fuck is all this about?
But I will say, I've found a silver lining in this massive waste of time. Unlike those monks, we're free to get as shitfaced as we please. So whaddaya say? Wanna hit the city? I need to let off some steam and it'd do you good to get outta that dusty-ass shack. We're in this together, aren't we? Maybe a beer or five is all we need for a breakthrough, to start askin ourselves the right questions. For instance: what the FUCK is the difference between magenta and fuchsia anyway?
But I will say, I've found a silver lining in this massive waste of time. Unlike those monks, we're free to get as shitfaced as we please. So whaddaya say? Wanna hit the city? I need to let off some steam and it'd do you good to get outta that dusty-ass shack. We're in this together, aren't we? Maybe a beer or five is all we need for a breakthrough, to start askin ourselves the right questions. For instance: what the FUCK is the difference between magenta and fuchsia anyway?
