I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'd delete this account and all two of my other social media accounts, but if I did, how would I know what to panic about tomorrow?

It is impossible to get excited about, emotionally invested in, or motivation around anything creative in all this calamity. Writing music, poetry, or blue sky posts seems utterly pointless and unimportant. The only thing left is staring slackjawed at more forgettable TV series or movies.

"They don't care where they kick, just as long as they hurt you. There are thieves in the temple tonight." —Prince, _Thieves in the Temple_

Happy birthday, @bonesurf.bsky.social!

I can't find anything to look forward to. The news gets worse every day and the Democratic establishment appears to have moved to Ottawa. I have no more energy to read this timeline of nonsense. The only thing I can do now is pick out the dumbest thing on Netflix and let my brain fade away.

Another 14 hour work day, just to avoid doom scrolling the fucking news. "This is all totally worth it," I whisper, at 3 am, my brain and fingers numb.

Is it too late to get a refund for this nonsense timeline?

Scrolling the feed in LinkedIn feels like an endless annual performance review at a job I was already tired of decades ago.

So long, 2024. 700 seconds until 2025. Brace for impact!

So, yeah...