Let me tell you a story about Fake Life.
Fake life goes to expensive restaurant every two days, not to eat—well, he can't afford the food anyways. He knows all the best angles to take photographs, where the backdrop of his “favourite” restaurant would regularly interrupt the photos while seducing random strangers to grab hold of the phone's camera. At the end of the cut, the only thing people see on the gram is “Had mad fun today” captions.
Fake life just left an unknown car, after taking numerous photos. Tomorrow, he would upload carefully by censoring the number plates, like it's adult content—well, claiming ownership to some random car is indeed adult content
Fake life doesn't shake girls or hold hands in public. He detests immoral act—its against his religion. Tonight, like every other night, he would not only see naked bodies moving in rhythmic motion, he would bring out a whole family clad in white, jelly like globules.
Somewhere right now, someone is waiting for the end of this story.
But the thing is, if I replace "Fake Life" with your name, would this story lose its authenticity? If not, kindly check yourself.
— Abdulhameed Ridwan O
— Shomade AbdulAzeez
