Category: Uncategorized

So, let me tell you about the last week of March from a work perspective. We have traffic goals that we’re set at the site — no surprise, because that’s been the case at literally every single website I’ve worked at — and, for reasons too complicated to go into, March’s goal went from “oh, we’re definitely going to hit that” to “oh, we have no chance of hitting that” in the blink of an eye about a week out from the end of the month. (It was a technical thing, not the fault of any particular person.) The reason I’m sharing this isn’t to complain, but to tell you that what happened next surprised the living shit out of me. Namely, I refused to accept it.

That’s not entirely right; I knew throughout the entire week that the goal was virtually impossible — there was a chance, but it was the slimmest of slim chances — but, for whatever reason, I just decided to act as if we’d do it anyway. I worked stupidly long hours, I set specific targets for particular writers to write particular stories for me to edit, I just… pushed, for want of a better way to put it, utterly determined that if we were going to fail, at least I’d have tried my very fucking hardest to succeed and no-one could say anything different. I got the bad news, I spent about a couple of hours being upset and mad about the extenuating circumstances, and then I just… went.

Part of this came from the fact that, the week before, when we were all thinking it was a sure thing, I purposefully took my foot off the gas to give myself, and the writers I edit, a break. February and March had been stressful, I figured, let’s all take a breather for a little bit. The numbers are good, we can afford ourselves this luxury. And then we found out the numbers weren’t good, and I felt embarrassed and mad at myself for that decision.

More than that, though, I was just mad. I was mad that, after these past couple of stressful months, the win that looked like it was right there suddenly wasn’t, and I just decided that I wanted it anyway. And if I wanted it hard enough, and if I really, really, applied myself, then why couldn’t I get it? Or at least, get close? As the song goes, anger is an energy… and at least this way, it was one put to good use. There’s a lesson there I should probably take into other parts of my life.

We ouperformed by the numbers by 10,000 by the time the month was done.

One of the stranger things about having been, essentially, continuously sick since the start of February is that I feel as if I feel as if I haven’t really managed to have any downtime, despite the fact that… well, basically the entire time I haven’t been working across the past eight or nine weeks has been downtime in a technical sense. I mean, what else would you call lying in bed, or on a couch, feeling dizzy and unable to do anything that requires focus and attention for more than a few minutes?

Of course, it’s downtime of one kind, but only one. The ability to do any of the many other things that, honestly, I very much would have liked to have managed by this point of the year — a list that includes anything from “doing my taxes” to “going for more walks,” or even simply “watching all of the movies I have on my ‘to watch’ list” — has been absent, and by this point of the calendar, I can feel the pressure of all those ambitions, from small to necessarily larger, weighing on me. It’s gone from, “man, it’s be nice to do something else” to “I really need to do those other things, before it’s too late.” And yet.

The entire experience is, in its own way, an unexpectedly renewing one. I feel appreciative of the small joys of time off (especially when it isn’t, you know, actually free time because tasks and other demands are looming) in a way I wasn’t months ago — mostly because, you know, I miss it — and I feel as if the trial-and-error of “maybe I can do this without feeling bad, oops” has also taught me the value of actually listening to my body and taking a break in a way I probably should have mastered decades earlier. Assuming that there is, at some point, an end to this phlegm-filled project I accidentally and unintentionally signed up for, I might end up looking back on it somewhat fondly in the future as a necessary reminder of my own limits that I’d been ignoring for too long.

Or maybe that’s the Stockholm Syndrome talking.

It’s a strange thing to realize that, a quarter of the way into the year as we almost are at this point, I’ve spent two out of the last three months basically sick and/or recovering from being sick. As much as I’m tempted to make a joke about this being a sign of my old age and obviously fragile body due to same — an impulse born of the desire to make that joke before anyone else can, because that’s just how uncomfortable I am about being 50 years old — the sad truth is, more than anything, I’m learning the limits of what I can, and can’t tolerate these days and realizing with no small sense of sadness that I just can’t bounce back the way I used to.

To be fair, I was literally told by multiple medical professionals that the virus-that-was-probably-the-flu was something that everyone seemed to have a hard time getting over; when I was at the emergency room, I was given estimates of three weeks, maybe longer — a timescale that basically worked out, except it very much didn’t work out in that it ended just as I headed to Seattle for a week for work, running on longer-workdays-less-rest-and-less-food for that time and watching my health get knocked back as a result.

Things weren’t helped by the fact that there was, apparently, a second, entirely separate headcold running through the staff that probably dinged me as well; I can remember hearing about it from three different people within a five minute period on the second day of the show, each one giving me a different name of someone who’d mysteriously gotten sick the day before with exactly the same symptoms and thinking to myself, oh shit, I’m going to get sick again, aren’t I? (Spoilers: yes.)

There was a point just before I left Seattle where I was bent double over the bathroom sink, unable to stop coughing to the point where I coughed my throat raw and saw blood hit the sink where I thought, do I even remember what it feels like to be healthy anymore? Must be nice, and then immediately imagining myself still asking that question next month, or the month after that.

There has to be more to 2025 than being a plague year, I hope.

At the doctor’s office for my physical, I sit in the room and wonder to myself, what if the doctor is just making all this stuff up? Does anyone ever actually check his work?

There’s a reason I’m thinking this beyond simple paranoia, it’s worth pointing out. While doing all the traditional doctor-doing-a-physical things, my doctor was also chatting away, telling me his point of view on anything and everything I happened to ask about, and his views were… well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say “crackpot,” but certainly unconventional. He would happily tell me what supplements he believed were a scam, but also which fruits and vegetables he believed were essentially worthless and should be avoided in any sensible diet — or which diseases were actually great weight-loss tools, for that matter. All of this, delivered in a very friendly, conversational style that somewhat undercut the fact that none of it actually seemed that professional, and then he left the room to go check on something, leaving me to sit there and think, I’m sure this guy is on the level, but what if he’s not?

It left me fully aware of how utterly unknowable all this stuff really is — although, admittedly, I’d be thinking something similar since my maybe-flu brought me to the emergency room where I was all but told, yeah, we don’t know, we can’t help you I guess and sent home none the wiser. There’s a hope we all have with doctors maybe more than any other profession that they fully get it and understand and never make any mistakes but have all the answers, and it’s inexplicable and unfair. Why do they have to be infallible when we’re not? Why aren’t they able to not have the answers, or say the wrong thing, or have weird opinions about why apples are pointless when you really get down to it?

The answer is, of course, we don’t go see doctors when we’re feeling ready to be playful or challenged or have a good back-and-forth about random topics. We go when we want someone to tell us what’s wrong and just know it for sure, because we’re scared and we don’t like the unknown at that point in our lives. It’s got to be hard for the doctors in question, who (just like the rest of us) sometimes will just want to bullshit and say dumb shit and not have to be right all the time.

But when they try, they leave someone in the room thinking, what if the doctor is just making all this stuff up? Does anyone ever actually check his work?

There’s a joke, it seems, about the first good weather in Portland after the winter; that it makes everyone in the city overreact, and respond as if they’ve never seen sun before. It’s a recurring bit because it’s true; this year, the first sunny day in weeks if not months — which was also accompanied by some genuine warmth, unusually but welcomely — was greeted by anecdotal reports of parents taking their kids out of school to enjoy it, of people taking time off work to escape to the countryside to take advantage of it, and firsthand experience of people walking past the house in t-shirts and grins, acting as if they’ve somehow escaped true horror and entered a utopia entirely unexpectedly.

I’m one to talk, though; I finished work and walked to the local park, determined to both clear my head of the static of the workday and take advantage of the good weather while it was around,. What I found there was thrilling in ways that I should have expected, but didn’t — the entire place, filled with the cast of characters I hadn’t seen there in months, every single one of us ready and eager to return to a warmer norm where we play our pre-determined roles with enthusiasm and, dare I say, gusto.

There were the dog walkers, with barely-constrained pups thrilled to see each other and be in the same space again; there were the stoners, and the goths, and the skaters, all assembling and quietly conferring amongst their own groups and suspiciously looking at everyone else. There were the dancers, those exuberant and confusing folk who just have to move even though there’s no music to hear, and then there were their opposites, the people who just sit silently and look at the ducks in the pond. There were the joggers, with a number looking dangerously red-faced, and the tree worshippers, and the people who might be having a picnic but there’s no food and so it’s unclear what they’re actually doing…

I’m part of my own group, of course; I’m a walker — one of those people who just like moving through the park at our own rate, watching everything, seemingly restless and purposeless. I do it alone, usually, listening to music and decompressing mentally. It’s a simple pleasure, but a sincere one, and I know I’m just as much a cliche and subsect as anyone else there. That was perhaps what made that particular walk such a joy: the feeling of fitting back into an eco-system I hadn’t even thought about in so long, and of belonging, once again.

More than the weather, that was what made the walk so special. The sense of once again rejoining a larger world outside my front door.

An unexpected result of the death of Gus is that, for the first time in a quarter century, my ex-wife and I have no reason to be in each others’ lives. It’s a simple fact that I’m sure both of us had considered at some point in the past few years since our divorce with differing levels of… excitement? Eagerness? Regret? Some combination of all three, and countless other emotions all tied into a bundle with twigs and twine? (I know that I was certainly aware it was going to happen, and it seems impossible she wasn’t, given who she is.) Nonetheless, now that the moment has actually arrived, it feels curiously anti-climactic.

There was almost no way it couldn’t, of course; we’d split six years earlier (six and a half, almost), and had worked through the emotions and motions of that separation in the years since — we went from anger and recrimination to something approaching amiable friendship, in large part because we were sharing custody of the dogs (and then, after Ernie died, of just the dog, singular. as if that had always been the case). All of the heavy lifting of what it meant to not be in each others’ lives was done at a time when we were, still, in each others’ lives but to a severely diminished extent; it was easier, that way, and felt kinder in some manner as well. We got to get over being mad of each other, scared of each other.

But now, we’re actually properly out of each others’ lives, after 25 years; half my life, and more than half of her’s. It’s a strange thought, that I probably will never hear from her or see her ever again, after everything we shared and once meant to each other, and a sad one, too, despite everything. It feels as if it’s something I’ll have to get used to, just as I get used to never seeing Gus again. A shift in the world that I’ll have to stumble around until I find my footing again.

When we said our final goodbyes, I walked away and almost felt as if I should look back, to see if she was doing the same. It felt silly, self-conscious and I didn’t do it; thinking back now, I wish I had, for reasons I can’t even start to understand or explain.

Despite the flu knocking me for a loop for half the month, I actually kept up pretty reasonably with my reading in February — and, curiously, spent a lot of time revisiting the Marvel Comics of my youth. (Spoilers: they’re pretty good, in retrospect. I might be overly swayed by nostalgia, however.) Anyway, here’s what I got up to reading comic-wise last month:

1. Fantastic Four (1961) #36
2. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #113
3. Justice League Unlimited (2024) #4
4. Metamorpho, The Element Man (2024) #3
5. Green Lantern (2023) #20
6. Fantastic Four (1961) #37
7. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #114
8. Uncanny X-Men (1963) #266-267
9. Mister Miracle (1971) #s 3-4
10. New Gods (1971) #3
11. Fantastic Four (1961) #38
12. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #115
13. Justice League Unlimited (2024) #s 1-3
14. Batman and Robin (2023) #18
15. Wonder Woman (2023) #18
16. The Flash (2023) #18
17. Detective Comics #s 1090-1093
18. Fantastic Four (1961) #39
19. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #116
20. Avengers (2023) #23
21. Star Wars: A New Legacy #1
22. Star Wars: Legacy of Vader #1
23. The Ultimates (2023) #9
24. West Coast Avengers (2023) #3
25. Phoenix (2024) #8
26. Power Man: Timeless #1
27. The Spectacular Spider-Men #12
28. Wolverine (2024) #6
29. Fantastic Four (1961) #40
30. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #117
31. Uncanny X-Men (1961) #s 268-269
32. Transformers (2023) #16
33. GI Joe (2024) #3
34. Fantastic Four (1961) #41
35. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #118
36. Uncanny X-Men (1961) #s 270-275
37. Detective Comics #1094
38. Superman (2023) #23
39. Black Canary: The Best of the Best #4
40. Fantastic Four (1961) #42
41. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #119
42. Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #283-284
43. Astonishing X-Men Infinity Comic #9
44. Astonishing Avengers Infinity Comic #s 3-4
45. Astonishing Spider-Man Infinity Comic #15
46. Fantastic Four (1961) #43
47. Fantastic Four Annual (1963) #s 1-2
48. Fantastic Four Anniversary Tribute #1
49. Captain America (1968) #s 196-197
50. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #120
51. Uncanny X-Men (1963) #s 276-277
52. Absolute Superman #s 3-4
53. Captain America (1968) #198
54. Fantastic Four Annual (1963) #3
55. Captain America (1968) #s 199-200
56. Fantastic Four (1961) #44
57. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #121
58. Incredible Hulk Annual (1976) #s 11-12
59. The Defenders (1972) #s 1-2
60. X-Factor (1986) #s 65-68
61. Uncanny X-Men (1963) #s 278-280
62. X-Factor (1986) #69
63. Excalibur (1987) #s 4-11
64. Star Wars: Darth Vader (2020) #s 33-34
65. The Transformers (1984) #1
66. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 71-72
67. The Knights of Pendragon (1990) #s 9-18
68. The Knights of Pendragon (1992) #s 1-4
69. Overkill (1992) #4 (Knights of Pendragon story only)
70. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 331-334
71. Judge Dredd: End of Days
72. Captain America (1968) #201
73. Fantastic Four (1961) #45
74. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #122
75. Captain America: Symbol of Truth – Homeland Infinity Comic #1
76. Avengers (1963) #s 229-230
77. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #335
78. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 73-76
79. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 336-338
80. Lazarus #s 1-4
81. Lazarus: Family Prelude
82. Lazarus #s 5-9
83. Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #1
84. All-New Venom #3
85. The Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #67
86. Deadpool Team-Up #5
87. The Immortal Thor #20
88. One World Under Doom #1
89. Sam Wilson: Captain America (2025) #2
90. X-Men (2024) #11
91. Cable: Love & Chrome #2
92. Magik (2025) #2
93. Lazarus #s 10-15
94. Daredevil (1998) #s 82-83
95. Fantastic Four (1961) #46
96. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #339
97. Lazarus #s 16-26
98. Lazarus: X +66 #s 1-6
99. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #123
100. Avengers (1963) #s 231-233
101. Iron Man (1968) #s 167-171
102. Lazarus: Risen #1
103. Iron Man (1968) #s 172-175
104. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 340-342
105. Lazarus: Risen #s 2-3
106. Aliens vs. Avengers #s 1-2
107. Lazarus: Risen #s 5-7
108. Lazarus #s 27-28
109. Iron Man (1968) #s 176-178
110. Iron Man Annual (1976) #6
111. Fantastic Four (1961) #47
112. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #124
113. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 343-346
114. Justice League: The Atom Project #3
115. JSA (2024) #5
116. Fantastic Four (1961) #48
117. The Nice House By The Sea #s 1-5
118. Journey Into Mystery (1952) #125
119. Iron Man (1968) #s 179-180
120. Avengers (1963) #234
121. Doctor Strange (1974) #60
122. Iron Man (1968) #s 181-183
123. Action Comics #s 1082-1083
124. Fantastic Four (1961) #49
125. The Mighty Thor (1966) #126
126. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #347
127. Iron Man (1968) #184
128. The Nice House By The Sea #6
129. Secret Six (2025) #1
130. Fantastic Four (1961) #50
131. The Mighty Thor (1966) #127
132. Fantastic Four (1961) #51
133. The Mighty Thor (1966) #128
134. Iron Man (1968) #185
135. Milestone Returns #0
136. Icon vs. Hardware #s 1-5
137. Milestone Universe: Shadow Cabinet #s 1-4
138. Icon (1993) #s 1-6
139. Hardware (1993) #s 1-2
140. Dick Tracy (2024) #1
141. Assorted Crisis Events #1
142. I Was A Fashion School Serial Killer #1
143. Fantastic Four (1961) #52
144. The Mighty Thor (1966) #129
145. Iron Man (1968) #186
146. Astonishing X-Men Infinity Comic #s 11-12
147. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 348-349
148. Web of Spider-Man (1985) #44
149. Dick Tracy (2024) #s 2-5
150. Fantastic Four (1961) #53
151. The Mighty Thor (1966) #130
152. Astonishing Spider-Man Infinity Comic #16
153. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 77-78
154. Judge Dredd: A Better World 
155. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #350
156. Avengers Annual (1967) #17
157. Marvel Premiere (1972) #49
158. The Falcon (1983) #s 1-4
159. Solo Avengers (1987) #6
160. The Incredible Hulk (2023) #22
161. Aliens vs. Avengers #3
162. The Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #68
163. Daredevil (2023) #18
164. Exceptional X-Men #6
165. Storm (2024) #5
166. Thunderbolts: Doomstrike #1
167. Uncanny X-Men (2024) #10
168. Weapon X-Men #1
169. X-Factor (2024) #7
170. X-Force (2024) #8
171. Fantastic Four (1961) #54
172. The Mighty Thor (1966) #131
173. Astonishing Spider-Man Infinity Comic #17
174. Iron Man (1968) #187
175. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 351-353
176. West Coast Avengers (1984) #1
177. Action Comics #1084
178. Batman & Robin (2023) #19
179. Absolute Superman #5
180. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 354-358
181. Fantastic Four (1961) #55
182. The Mighty Thor (1966) #132
183. Iron Man (1968) #188
184. West Coast Avengers (1984) #2
185. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 359-361
186. Iron Man (1968) #s 189-195
187. Absolute Flash #1
188. Fantastic Four (1961) #56
189. The Mighty Thor (1966) #133
190. Iron Man (1968) #196
191. West Coast Avengers (1984) #3
192. Hardware (1993) #s 3-4
193. Icon (1993) #s 7-8
194. JLA (1996) #s 98-99
195. Captain America (1968) #s 202-203
196. Fantastic Four (1961) #57
197. The Mighty Thor (1966) #134
198. Iron Man (1968) #197
199. Hardware (1993) #s 5-8
200. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest #1
201. Essential Rogue Trooper: The Traitor General
202. Superman (1939) #30, 96
203. Superman (1987) #75
204. Superman Annual (1987) #2
205. Superman: Peace on Earth
206. Fantastic Four (1961) #58
207. The Mighty Thor (1966) #135
208. 2000 AD Prog 2422
209. Fantastic Four (1961) #59
210. The Mighty Thor (1966) #136
211. Iron Man (1968) #s 198-199
212. Astonishing X-Men Infinity Comic #12
213. West Coast Avengers (1984) #4
214. Iron Man Annual (1976) #7
215. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #362
216. Superman (1987) #2
217. Blood Syndicate (1993) #1
218. Justice League of America (2006) #s 27-28, 30
219. Fantastic Four (1961) #60
220. The Mighty Thor (1966) #137
221. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 363-368
222. Iron Man (1968) #200
223. Captain America (1968) #s 307-309
224. Fantastic Four (1961) #61
225. The Mighty Thor (1966) #138
226. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 369-370
227. Captain America (1968) #310
228. Justice League of America (2006) #s 31-34
229. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 21-22
230. Captain America (1968) #311
231. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #371
232. G.I. Joe (1982) #23
233. Fantastic Four (1961) #62
234. The Mighty Thor (1966) #139
235. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 372
236. Captain America (1968) #312
237. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 24-25
238. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest #37
239. Challengers of the Unknown (2024) #4
240. Absolute Martian Manhunter #1
241. Absolute Green Lantern #1
242. Marvel Team-Up (1972) #134
243. Jack of Hearts #1
244. The Question: All Along The Watchtower #5
245. Detective Comics #1095
246. Superman: The Last Days of Lex Luthor #2
247. Batman & Robin: Year One #6
248. Fantastic Four (1961) #63
249. The Mighty Thor (1966) #140
250. The Incredible Hulk (1962) #s 373
251. Captain America (1968) #313
252. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 26-30
253. Ghost Rider/Wolverine/Punisher: Hearts of Darkness
254. Ghost Rider/Wolverine/Punisher: The Dark Design
255. Alpha Flight (1983) #s 3-5
256. Ultimate Spider-Man (2024) #14
257. The Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #68.Deaths (Yes, that’s the issue number)
258. Captain America & Volstagg #1
259. Fantastic Four (2022) #29
260. Iron Man (2024) #5
261. Red Hulk (2025) #1
262. West Coast Avengers (2024) #4
263. X-Men (2024) #12
264. The Best of 2000 AD Monthly #63

And so, on the tenth day, I decided to go to the Emergency Room. It wasn’t just that I was bored of being sick by day 10 — although, please know, I very much was, especially given that what had seemed a slow-but-sure march toward general health got utterly derailed by a weekend relapse — but that, by the tenth day of being sick, I was feeling as if the whole “taking it easy in bed, having liquids and hoping for the best” thing wasn’t really paying dividends. At least if I went to the ER, I figured, they’d flush my system with IV fluids and probably give me some antibiotics, and that would do something.

Funny story: I got no IV fluids, nor did I get any antibiotics. I did, however, get told that because I hadn’t gone to see them within the first 48 hours of my infection, they couldn’t really do much for me, and the best I could really do would be to take it easy in bed, have some liquids, and hope for the best. The irony.

Of course, this being the US healthcare system, it’s not like this ~5 hour adventure left me with nothing; I patiently await the bill for however many hundreds (thousands?) of dollars it cost for me to sit in a room for hours and get ignored by other people doing far more important things for people in far more distress than me.

That last bit isn’t entirely sarcasm; one of the good things about going to the ER was the context that, in the grand scheme of things, I was pretty well off. There was a woman who was in such pain in the waiting room that she couldn’t stop talking to herself, just saying please please please fuck oh fuck please make it stop fuck over and over and scaring a bunch of kids in the process. (Not all kids were scared; one, with the self-righteousness of someone who’s never been told no in an appropriately scary way, declared loudly, “That woman is too loud and she should stop talking because it makes me upset and she’s cursing.”) An old couple cuddled each other the entire time they waited, both looking so afraid of the world I legitimately couldn’t tell which was actually waiting for their appointment.

As I left the ER, my hopes for anything close to a speedier finish to the sickness dashed, someone passing in the corridor grabbed me by the arm, saying, “Your eyes are glassy and very bloodshot, do you know you’re going in the wrong direction for the emergency room?” Lord save us from well-meaning good samaritans whose simple faith in modern healthcare is as strong as mine.

One of the few high points of being sick and somewhat delirious for awhile was that I had unusually vivid dreams, and such unbroken sleep that it was as if I’d wake up immediately after something had happened that I needed to remember. That’s how I can remember, for example, a dream where I met Gus as a newborn puppy again, for example, and then he was sitting there next to the way he was the last time I saw him, in some strange moment where I got to say goodbye to the him he was at the end, as well as at the beginning. (It was somewhat fulfilling given that I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye in real life; it also didn’t feel like it was an end, in some way that I can’t put my finger on, however.)

There was another dream that I woke up from, repeatedly, and then managed to slip back inside almost immediately over and over again across the course of a few hours, and it’s something that’s stuck with me ever since. The initial set up was somewhat science-fiction-ish, or comic-booky: a parallel Earth had been discovered and, somehow (who needs details?!?), destroyed. All of its inhabitants, however, had come over to our Earth, so suddenly everyone was living beside an alternate version of themselves.

What the dream was actually about, however, was that it had been decided that the world couldn’t support twice the population and so that parallel population were to be killed off in, again, some ill-defined manner. That didn’t mean that I was dreaming about some crazy adventure where people were fighting for survival, though; instead, I was there just very aware that entire cultures were going to disappear as a result — songs, stories, and more that were just outside of our understanding and experience that would suddenly not be there because an entire world of people was going to stop existing.

I’d wake up, and think to myself groggily that I didn’t know where this was coming from and I needed to just sleep deeper and move past such thoughts, and then I’d be back on this overpopulated world, where I was all too aware that so many people’s work and dreams and art were going to disappear, forever.