You can see it in the empty blue skies. You can feel it as the Sun grows closer and closer to Earth, rays that burn the skin like wax paper in a bonfire, and you can hear it in the empty dialogues that people on the crowded city streets are locked into with their smartphones. Ludicrous conversations about percentages and dividend growth. Robotic techno sounds stream from the nightclubs, like zombies on siesta with green colored drinks in hand, meth amphetamine filtering their neural systems, empty stares. The approaching of the disco void is just around the corner.