So, I recently read some Chuck Palahniuk books, as well as, Brave New World and I was inspired to write something about consumerism, capitalism, and shit like that. This is what I have so far, not really planning on writing a novel or anything but it'd be awesome if I could get some critique/direction on where to go with this, if I should really go anywhere with it at all.
I walk briskly down the hallway, observing the absolute beauty of the hotel. Unlike the unenlightened, I am not confused about the aesthetic nature of my surroundings. Every object in this hallway, down to the finest detail is a product. A delicately crafted product, created by an infinite amount of consumers, and an infinite amount of competition. Because of this very reason, all these products are at their absolute best; molded, shaped, and sculpted by one of the strongest human emotions that exists, the desire to best another man. This quality shows; these products appear smoother, sleeker, and much more pleasing to the eye than the crude, chaotic shapes of the natural world. Yes, there is not a single star in the universe that can shine as bright as the TESLAÂ© bulbs that dangle and sparkle overhead of me. Just like how the lighting fixtures have more radiance than the brightest stars, the serene and calming nature of the white walls around me also possess a similar effect. Yes, there is nothing in the universe that is cleaner than the speck-free walls around me, created with the most perfect dimensions and size ratios, these walls epitomize the standard of perfection society has today. But I am not separated from this seemingly-perfect world, my white, double-breasted Desiderio suit-jacket, and matching dress pants made with HYDPK material is the flawless complement to this hallway. It is as if the material world and I are one, both immaculate, cool objects that counterpart each other. This is why I enjoy my job so much, I am able to spend so much time in settings that reflect my personality.
But enough about the allure that both the hallway and I share, I must get on with my task, for if I get distracted, the transaction will be cancelled. I stop, and see the room number 'one zero four' right in front of me, slowly, I open my suitcase from Perfezione, admiring the golden trim outlining the edges of the suitcase, which complements the solid, jet-black, leather exterior. What lies within my suitcase, is perhaps the most fascinating piece of technology I have seen, it is a MAG 3025 MAG-FIELDÂ© Powered Gauss Rifle, capable of disassembling a man in seconds. I take the three separate pieces and put them together to give life to a weapon that will be used to take lives. I carefully close my suit case, and place it against the wall, I proceed to check my SOLAREXÂ© watch, it is 11:59 pm, one minute early for the assassination. Being the punctual and polite man that I am, I wait an extra minute (For my contract states that the assassination take place at 12:00 AM), this is the point when I break down the door, staring eye-to-eye with my target who appears calm; apathetic to my sudden, unexpected entrance. Predictable behavior. In an instant, the man who was once a living breathing human being is dead, the skull which once housed his very personality, his very being is now merely a remnant of its original form, what remains is bone fragments, blood, and brain matter. Although the entire room is covered by his bodily fluids, I remain untouched. Thanks to the ultra-hydrophobic material my Desiderio suit is made of, all the blood that came into contact with my suit merely slid off, as if I didn't commit the act at all. The suit was very expensive, but it provides a barrier for me, seperating my clean, sterile appearance from the bloody and dirty work that I do. Even in death the man appears very calm. No one puts up a fight anymore, in a future where everything has a price, everyone has an expiry date.
The deed is done, I check my Orange (c) 60 TB Phone with LiteSpeed and check the LIBERTY (c) banking application. Excellent, a sum of five thousand dollars has been recently added to my bank account. Now that my target has expired, it is also time for its perpetrator to retire as well, I being to slowly take apart my rifle while appreciating it's aesthetic shape and appearance. I am pleased with the brand of firearms that I use. While many other weapons manufacturer's attempt to create a "personal" feel by making parts of their weapon's handcrafted, MAG (c) persists in crafting their firearms through only the use of machines. This is exceptional in that these weapons lack that risk of human error that others might possess. I place the rifle carefully into my briefcase, and then proceed to imprison it once again.