In post-digital modern moments like this, everybody feels like they should say something important or concise about the state of things. Even people in their dinky little unseen corners, like this. Fuck it though, go sit on the porch. If you ain’t got a porch, find the closest thing to a porch in your life. The end is never as close as fearmongers tell you. There’s nothing inspiring about fear; it only speaks to the miserable. And if it’s all you’re looking at, it’ll make you miserable. Go sit on the porch. There’s still birds, still a sky, still stars at night. There’s still a tomorrow.
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