You’re chained to your screen— A zombie scrolling, typing, drowning in blue light. Blind to the clock—suddenly, it’s Weekend Now, your body's in revolt: Your spine’s a rusted hinge. Fatigued like deflated balloons. Muscles whisper “surrender.” Joints stage a protest—placards read “PAIN.” Your mood? A storm cloud in a sealed room. What a swing! This isn't a drill Your body’s screaming CODE RED— Will you mute the alarm? Unplug. Unfold. Unbreak. Unscroll. Untangle. Step out of your pixel prison. Unshoe thy feet—let grass reclaim your soles. Baptize your skin—Let sunlight resurrect your glow Breathe air that doesn’t taste like Wi-Fi. This isn't a trend— It’s your DNA screaming “REMEMBER ME?” Your skin’s starving for sunlight. Your lungs crave untamed air. You’re a creature of light, soil, sweat. Not a robot with a dying battery. It's #SavvySaturday. Your chance to rewrite the script. Will you binge another doomscroll— Or let the world remind you how to feel?