End of (a) Time

We live in a time, my friend,
where genius in art and science is measured in money.
We live in a time, where beauty is only acknowledged,
if it can be sold.
We live in a time, where Goethe and Schiller would never be published,
a time where Shakespeare would end as a curbside beggar, a starving fool writing poetry for food in vain.
We live in a time, where people never see the sky, because they stare at screens from dusk till dawn.
If you are not the master over at least two thirds of your daytime, you are a slave, said Nietzsche.
We live in a time, where freedom is consumption – for which we lack the time.
Using things was replaced by obtaining them. Possessing them. Being possessed by them.
We live in a time, where greed is challenging reality itself.
We live in a time, my friend, a time, that will come to an end.