Grabbin grape

Hi c, as every imaginary reader ought to know, is just another fruit juice in the super saturated grocery store shelf that is modern life. To us, it is no different from Hawaiian punch or Capri sun, really. Just another package to throw in the kids' lunchbox. Hooray! The only thing we consumers care less about than the brand is the flavor, because they all taste pretty much the same. Theyre all the same. And the producers of the drinks all know this. In truth, it is evident that they have given up on the facade of flavor altogether. In this cold, unloving world of juice boxes, no energy can be afforded to fanning the fires of deception, and so juice box marketing has quietly faded away. Like the old slide in a dilapidated urban playground, the juice box longingly watches the world age, and the smiling faces of yesteryear shine on as ghosts in the nonexistent minds of the monolithic remnants of childhood. What once was the product of a man's dream, the symbol of his life's work to create a treat both hydrating and delicious, has washed up on the shores of apathy as a fractured shade of it's former self. And its name is Grabbin Grape.
Nobody cares that it doesn't make sense. Nobody cares that it doesn't describe the taste or the overall experience. Nobody is proud to have Grabbin Grape in their lunch box, nobody exalts it as their favorite beverage. The only reason anybody even buys it is because either it is on sale, or it is the most easily accessible pack in the juice box aisle. Nobody would cry if the product was discontinued. In fact, nobody would even notice...
That is perhaps the saddest thing I've ever written... Maybe it has to do with the fact that I just finished watching WALLE. That very might have something to do with this melancholy. That movie's very powerful....very powerful. Or maybe it's because Easter is now over, and so is the weekend. And there's nothing but exams and projects looming ever nearer on my radar.
Actually, it's probably the fact that I'm sending these words, so laboriously selected, so painstakingly crafted, out into the world. A world where anybody could read them, but nobody does. Nobody. Nobody is a very powerful person. So powerful in fact, that Nobody even knows I exist. Nobody cares about this blog, or these words. But in the end, Nobody could write them better.
I apologize for the existentialism, my dear imaginary readers. I suppose it is a little cliche in this post-post-modern world. But there is nothing quite like blasting the contents of your weary mind into the universe where they will remain forever. I recommend trying it sometime.