It’s Sunday. Again.

Greetings, heathens. I’m not sure if I love you today, but I came to check up on you anyway.

You all don’t say very much, but I love all of you, speaking and mute, all the same.

I’m feeling particularly annoyed and hungry, or rather, I’m annoyed that I’m hungry. It’s not very pleasant.

Last week was a swift as the breeze and as terrifying as a field rabbit. Everyone, including myself, have become increasingly dull and unimpressive these days. It’s quite depressing. No one is capable of empathy and everyone believes that everyone is out for themselves so why not join them? 

Each day, I become more and more disturbed and less aware of how I can fix anything. I’m just as busy hating everyone around me as everyone else is.

But anywho, enjoy your Sunday, heathens. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy praising the invisible holed-hand man. Just be sure not to burn down your cities and houses in honor of him.



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