this morning #2280.

this morning, he just kept clicking on shit. one link after another after another over the course of the entire morning. just couldn’t help himself. as he shaved. while he ate. standing in the station waiting for the train. absorbed none of it, not even the dozen stories about how even though the society’s on fire, we’re all just leaned back in our chairs letting it be. he skimmed through the articles, let the sadness & rage sink in & then mashed the details down into the slowly-growing snowball of misery that’d replaced his brain. soon enough, it’ll go one of two ways: it’ll either begin to melt & one day fade away or it’ll gain enough weight to start rolling downhill, gathering more & more momentum as it goes until it barrels right through the innocent village down below.