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On the Commodification of Everything Beautiful

After my first medical appointments of the day, I find myself hanging out at a Panera and dreaming of a world there were public spaces I could sit on a democratically controlled Internet, spaces truly open to all that didn’t require you to have the money to pay for coffee to sit, spaces where you weren’t surrounded by advertising and forced to listen to bland inoffensive music meant to evoke the image of an eclectic neighborhood coffee house.

I find myself dreaming of a world where my simple pleasures haven’t been turned into commodities to be bought and sold. I should wake up and start taking actions instead of just dreaming.

On the Commodification of Everything Beautiful
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