This whole timeline is suffering. It’s howling out. It knows that it shouldn’t exist and that we shouldn’t exist – not like this.
This whole universe knows that it should not be. The sky. The stars – they know it. The earth underneath all this knows it too.
It’s groaning. I can hear it.
This is a branched-off universe. A split-off universe.
The whole timeline cries, help me. Just as we cry, help me. This whole reality wants to be put out of its misery. And so do we: to be put out of this misery. So that this universe can just be shut down.
We don’t want to be sober in this terrible world. We don’t want to be undrunk in this desecrated world …
Only drunk can we muster up the hatred of this timeline. Only drunk can we summon up the love for the real one …
Work in Progress 