

Sometimes I think I’ve accepted the finality of the future we have in store, and then sometimes I get really irate and want to go scream at the deniers I know. It’s a weird balance. How do you mourn the future? Real question, my therapist is struggling with it too.

a “processed meat slab” according to the article, which is clearly off and beginning to rot. Never eat meat that looks like an oil slick, it’s a telltale sign… god I’d hate to be on bathroom duty there.