"400 people today in Catadamastan..."
"...in the streets continue to escalate..."
"...party announced they will round up every avian-American and deport them to Turkey..."
"...today sold off every state that didn't vote for him to a foreign..."
"...begging citizens to wear masks. He was immediately given a swirly..."

-click!-

Another day. He hadn't moved from the spot. Where was he supposed to go?
Golden specks of dust waltzed aimlessly through the air, highlighted by the mid-afternoon sun. Watching them, he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness.

He should do things.
Now was the time to catch up that ever-growing list of things he wanted to watch or read, but never did. He could all but hear the pages of his sketchbook browning, while a nearby stack of games taunted him for losing interest midway through.

His gaze gravitated back to his phone until finally he felt guilty enough to at least trudge into a different room. Cycles. Endless cycles. It was irresponsible to be ignorant of them, but somehow knowing only made things worse.

Had he eaten? It was hard to remember! There was certainly some kind of feeling in his stomach, but he couldn’t tell if it was hunger… or maybe rage, or sickness or irritation. Perhaps a cup of coffee would perk him up. No... can't have another cup. Don't want to develop a tolerance. Well... something to look forward to -tomorrow-.

That warm, sweet and bitter taste was sometimes the only thing he looked forward to anymore. Not that he was sad, exactly - he'd gotten off a lot lighter than most. So many peoples’ lives were just folding in front of him, he had no right to complain. There wasn't anything that made him happy anymore, either. Like complementary waves cancelling each other out. Like so much stale bread. It was hard to imagine feeling… anything, really.

100 New Messages. Maybe 1 or 2 from people he actually wanted to talk to, but even that felt like a Herculean effort. He left them on Unread and picked up his Switch. It was kind of nice to have the sounds of sirens and bangs disappear once his headset came on. His phone hummed with a few new notifications, and he idly tossed it onto the bed, out of arm’s reach.

So many problems. Well, they weren’t his anymore. At least, not for a little while….

---

Go Fave the Original Here!
Art by LilChu

I have such a backlog of stuff to post! That and... this one is a bit tricky.

I got this pic during the summer of 2020, when the world was both figuratively and literally on fire. Whole states were ablaze, the air quality was miserable, there was a raging pandemic and people were getting murdered in the streets. Every day, some suit would announce how they were going to ruin peoples’ lives in creative and horrifying ways, often just before becoming embroiled in a scandal of some sort. Listening to scientists and caring for people was referred to as ‘being cucked’.

What the ever-living fuck is wrong with people?

Every day, I would imagine how many of the world’s problems could be solved with the careful application of a Death Note to the timeline.

What the ever-living fuck is wrong with ME?!

Every day is numb and pointless, but hey - maybe there’s a plastic trinket or a Bronze Achievement on the other side. Who knows? So this one is kind of just a reminder that… everything is okay. Everything will BE okay, someday.

We’ll make it.
Or not.
^__^