It’s all fucked up.

Are you feeling stuck in the middle of life, selfish and without movement? Are you feeling foolish because you were told to be accepted? Are you looking at a screen with hearts that deploys self-esteem? Are you wondering how to manage all this debt? Are you still going? Cool, keep it moving.

There won’t be some big surprise moment where it all gets better. You live in a fucked place, with a boulder of history that is rolling over you, because the stupid shit propelling it has intertia. It’s not that you can’t protest enough — it’s that you can’t stop the momentum this other thing has. This other thing, you see… it’s complicated. This other thing is unfathomably heavy, and it has been rolling along waiting to crush you since long before you were ever born. It’s life, but it’s life distilled into hell.

What you’re feeling is the long dick of history, fucking you. It’s fucking you dry, sphincter style. (That’s your butthole.) Sometimes, history tells you to get fucked. That’s where you’re living.