alt-text: there’s laundry to do and a genocide to stop. I have to eat better and also avoid a plague. my rent went up $150. I’ll need to pick up more shifts. Twenty people died in Rafah this morning and every major news outlet is stretching the limits of passive voice to suggest whole families may have leaped up through the air at missiles that otherwise had the right of way. I just got a notification that my student loan payments are starting up again and my phone isn’t charged. My cousin got COVID for a fourth time and can no longer work or walk or even feed himself. The person across from me on the L train seems to fashion themself a punk rock revolutionary, but they’re not wearing a face mask, and that’s the kind of cognitive dissonance that makes me want to steal batteries. Fascists keep winning primaries for both parties, and I think I gained a few pounds. The CDC just announced there are no more speed limits on highways, and I think this Ativan is finally hitting. The NYPD farmer’s market only sells bad apples, have you heard that one? Listen it’s warm today, too warm for March. But I don’t have time to think through the implications because there’s laundry to do and a genocide to stop.
I will describe it, literally.
A man on a tiny motorcycle with a microwave on his head, closed covering his face, comes to a screeching halt in front of the camera, opening the door as he does. This reveals his face and a complicated mechanism to keep it on his head. He stands using the momentum of the motorcycle to propel him up and says, angrily "I know a lot of you hatin' motherfuckers want me to fail, but guess what? It ain't happenin! You know why? Cuz I got a motherfuckin microwave on my head!" He leans over to close the door, remounts his tiny motorcycle, and scoots away in to the city.
I have no idea what this is meant to mean, but thank you for going to the effort of typing that all out XD