Epiphany that I am too brainrotted.

Is religion cope? A tool for oppression? 

My friend asks where I got that from. 

Playboi carti is hypnotizing us with psychoacoustics. When there's a constant repeating melody, it gets tuned out and then every new adlib or 808 is like hypersensitive

Woah, where did you learn that from? 

Tiktok, and tiktok. 

The words feel cheap in my mouth, like I’m outing myself as low grade, phone addicted, bargain-bin intellect. Why is it embarrassing when it is the media I choose to consume, the “druid” stream I stand in every night? Would it be cleaner to say I read it in some substack article, some longform thinkpiece?  Or blame it on a friend who informed me? Or does that show another peer gracing this knowledge onto me, show I do not have my own thoughts. I want to say the universe whispered it to me personally, in some subway window or half-dream at 3 a.m., like I have a private line to insight and therefore an identity, a self the cosmos chose to bestow something on. And, crucially, that I have swag.  

Am I too brainrotted?