90% of doomscrollers always stop just one post before the clouds of uncertainty part and the shining bridge to the future manifests itself. the chariots, clad in shimmering gold, glide across the sky. Golden flecks of sunlight kiss the doomscrollers pallid cheeks, retuning them to a rosy hue of healthiness and mirth. Apollo stretches his hand out to them. the pain is gone, the winter has passed. spring is carried on the backs of rabbits and in the fur of honeybees. the nightmare is over


















