Last chance saloon.

Should you find yourself alone with a quiet moment, resist the urge to fill it with electricity.

Although the hum of technology may comfortingly whisper from the next room, refrain. All the pixels in the world won't capture what can slowly unfold from the shadows, still wet and licking at it's skin like a new born bird.

Peck through the shell.

The yolk of your infancy has long been consumed. You have filled up all the white spaces. Your beak will break if you curl into yourself any further.

The only option is to fly.