im returning my time machine to the library
it was September 12th, 2018. A gorgeous summer framed the baked dessertment of the walls of my study. for many evenings of work alone and layerings of forethought and precise application, i had built upon the present to create a machine of the past- and future, too. my life's work on my newest and greatest invention - my time machine - had finally been completed. I opened the one-way door that sealed my fate and gripped the leather handle. I wanted to go back in time to put in the world's cards, a much more timely end to my father. with a most great and furious intent i pushed forward into the center console and realized i had appeared in a different world. perhaps i had not been fully operating the great work with the amount of practiced efficiency and hope i ought to grant it. I did not see my father's younger self but rather, felt my insides unfurling like a long line of stitches planted themselves down my midsection and began to unravel, bisecting me alive. little creatures i had only imagined in my old world. i saw swaths of them: little pepes, big pepes, tall wojaks, small wojaks, bloomers and doomers, all dancing and prancing with fancy around. little faeries; visions of the past rested at my feet and mewled at me to open myself into the kind undoings that one may grant a housecat or farmdog. it all felt very domestic as i recall now but, there was one big issue perverting this newfound utopia. rage thrust itself out me as an antacid tablet's supple effervescence proceeds. i had no access to the collaboration of the prestigious streamer university twitch channels, nor did i have any bluesky accounts to goon to. this was truly a nightmare.
