Okay this one’s pretty dark and I despise capitalism, but I was recently reminded just how hot a corporate, hyper-capitalist feedism fantasy can really be… Imagine your appetite, behavior, and eventually entire mind being slowly paved over by the slick, calculated, engineered addiction of a billion dollar industry that wants you too heavy to ever waddle away or put its product down. The shame and fear of knowing that you’re falling right into their palms lapping up a fattening druglike food they designed to own you, mixing with the eroticism of feeling your body growing and swelling into the exact uselessly, endlessly needy food dependent customer they want. Not being able to stop yourself from getting off with one hand while shoving their product down your throat with the other as you accelerate the corporate feedism colonization, letting their engineered flavors rewrite your brain until you’re just the soft, panting endpoint of their assembly line. Becoming nothing but another one of their loyal ever-expanding blobs mindlessly dedicated to burning your paychecks on their fattening foods until you’re immobile.
Letting them hand feed you offerings and rewards to chain you to their product and keep you a docile piggy… a discount here, a buy one get 4 free there, free delivery once you’re immobile (or maybe before to suppress your willingness to leave the house). Slowly molding you into their corporate-owned, sugar and MSG addicted, appetite-shackled cow, and it’s not your fault after all~ You’re just one future piggy against a whole industry, against billions of dollars in research and science designed just to grow and subdue you. It’s a fight you can’t win, so you might as well give in and trade your autonomy for the easy, comforting, wet, heavy bliss of constant calorie soaking, becoming a creature whose only remaining instinct is to swallow whatever poison funneled your way. It’s futile because they’ve roadmapped your ruin anyway, the corporations know the exact moment your gaze will go completely vacant when the salt hits your tongue, your mind shorting out as you realize you’ve become a literal commodity, a gorgeous pile of expanding lard that exists only to soak up more product and swell into total, sedentary ruin. And you’ll start worshipping them for it too, they’ll turn your depraved addiction into a craving, an appreciation for the way they’ve rewired you to get off on your own physical obsolescence, finding a sick, sexual spark in the fact that your body is being harvested by greed. Reveling in the fact that the corporation’s financial greed is fueling your caloric greed. That you’ve let yourself turn into a massive, perfectly obedient tribute to corporate excess, a girl who is so thoroughly broken by her cravings that she’d happily watch the last of her custom made XXXL clothes split and tear just for another hit of addictive, greasy garbage.
You can’t pretend, you can’t deny it, you’ll have the evidence of your ruin displayed to you through the company provided health tracking app and you’ll be rewarded for every little submission to gluttony. Because like any good company, they’ll keep metrics on you to measure their campaign effectiveness, they’ll give you rewards if you sign up for that health tracking app where they can measure every little pound you add, your fast declining step count each day, and the way your body is struggling to keep up with their ‘campaign’. They’ll dangle the carrot (or donut) in front of you to keep you waddling towards an obese oblivion. They’ll log you as a loyally brainwashed piggy once they know you’ve reached the state of total, lard soaked, dependent, fitness failure where you’re literally too wide to be anything but a permanent, overfed, stuck blob in your own home. Even then, the campaign won’t be done, they don’t just want you fat… you’re being industrially processed, your old personality being replaced by a thick, sugary static that only clears when you’re being stuffed past the point of agony with their product. You’ll be reduced to nothing but a revenue stream fueled by depravity. You won’t be considered a true success until you’re permanently in a state of chemically induced submission where you’re nothing but a soft, wet and needy vessel for their profits, a pig that’s been fed and rewired to find her highest pleasure in her own destruction. You’ll get off to the intoxicating pleasure of being mocked for how much you’ve given up, teasing about how those corporate scientists have done a better job of owning you than your own willpower ever could. You’ll become so beautifully dim witted and overstuffed that you can’t even remember what it felt like to have a thought that wasn't about your love for the corporation, your swelling body, or your next hit of the ‘medicine’ they so graciously allow you to buy.
Years will pass and you’ll lay in your corporate owned ‘pig pen’ in a mountain of your own jiggly, calorie dense waterfall of lard, sobbing with a dark relief because your handler is halfway through opening the next crate of your favorite products, and you’ll get off to the fact that you’re long past saving (as if you want to be saved anyway) <3
blakekathryn
dededos
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
janainaart
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
