THIRTEEN SWEEPS, PAINSTAKINGLY STACKED ATOP THE OTHER, SURVIVED ONE BRUTAL BILUNAR PERIGEE AT A TIME. HALF OF THEM ON A PLANET I WAKE UP AND GIVE THE FAT, FLAMING MIDDLE PRONGSTUB TO EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE, AND THE REST ON A DUMPSTER FIRE OF A WORLD OF MY OWN "CREATION." ONLY SOME OF THEM I WAS REALLY, TRULY PRESENT FOR. THREE *THOUSAND* SWEEPS SPENT IN AN INESCAPABLE TORMENT NEXUS MEANT TO SAND DOWN ANY PROPRIETARY CONCEPT OF TIME I EVER HAD. WHICH I ESCAPED, ANYWAY. BUT NOT BEFORE IT SMOOTHED SOME OF THE HARD, JAGGED EDGES, TRY AS I MIGHT TO SHARPEN THEM BACK TO GANDERBULB-STABBING AND SPONGECASE-BLUDGEONING LETHAL FORCE. AND AS IF I COULDN'T PUSH THE INCREDULITY OF MY SHITHIVE MAGGOTS NARRATIVE ANY FURTHER, TWELVE SWEEPS AFTER THAT, IN A FAR-FLUNG PAST SO STUPID THAT IT'S LEFT INDELIBLE MARKS ON MY VOCABULARY. AND SOME UNCOMFORTABLE SKILLS TO ADMIT ARE CURRENTLY PADDING OUT MY RESUME. A FAT, MALIGNANT PILE OF GREASY BLACK TRASH BAGS IN THE RUSTING DUMPSTER OF MY PERSONAL HISTORY, BOILING IN THE OPEN SUN AS THE LOOMING MONOLITH TO MY EVERY GRUELING SWEEP OF MERCILESS LIFE DARKENS THE FUCKING SKY. SO AT THIS POINT? FUCK IT. WHAT'S ONE MORE? #WRIGGLINGDAY. (AND BEFORE YOU ASK, YES, I'M STILL IN THE FUCKING FELT MANOR. THIS IMAGE HAS BEEN *HEAVILY* DOCTORTURED TO RESEMBLE ANYTHING CLOSE TO EARTH-C'S NATURAL DAYLIGHT. BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND TO SEE ANY MORE FUCKING GREEN. I DECIDED I WANTED TO LOOK O.G., TODAY.)
I'M NOT GOING TO HUMILIATE MYSELF ANY FURTHER IN PUBLIC THAN I ALREADY HAVE, BUT I'LL GO ON THE RECORD TO SAY THIS MUCH IN DEFENSE OF THIS ADMITTEDLY NAUSEATING CHITT. IT'S BEEN A HARD SWEEP. I WOULD SAY THAT I'D LIKE TO SEE *YOU* WADE THROUGH THE TORMENT NEXUS I'VE COME OUT OF WITH MORE VIOLENCE AND VISCERA THAN YOU EXITED YOUR COCOON WITH, BUT THE TRUTH IS? I WOULDN'T. I WOULD *NEVER* WANT TO SEE YOU PUT THROUGH THAT. I HAVEN'T SEEN A COLOR THAT WASN'T GREEN IN WHAT FEELS LIKE FOUR FUCKING ETERNITIES. I STARE UP AT THE SKY AND SEE PURE BLACK NOTHING. ALL NIGHT AND DAY, THE SOUND OF CLOCKS HAMMERS MY AURICULAR CLOTS LIKE A CARPENTER WITH A HIVE OF MIND HORNETS UP HIS ASS. AND I STILL HAVE TO BUG-BOMB THE FUCKING TIME ROACHES. I'M FORGETTING WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO WEAR THIS SWEATER. I'M FORGETTING A LOT OF WHAT CAME BEFORE THIS. SO JUST FOR TODAY. JUST FOR ONE FUCKING DAY, ASSHOLE. LET ME HAVE THIS.
... YEAH. SORRY. I GUESS I WAS JUST FEELING NOSTALGIC FOR OUR SPATS. ARE WE STILL COOL? LIKE...ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
QUIT PULLING THAT FACE. YOU ARE UNBEARABLE TO LOOK AT. WHEN YOU'RE ANYTHING SHORT OF ENRAGED.
YOU'RE AN INSUFFERABLE SAP THE MOMENT SOMEONE FLICKS YOU ON THE SNIFFSTUMP, YOU KNOW THAT? OF COURSE WE ARE. IT'S YOUR WRIGGLING DAY, TOO. BECAUSE IN CASE YOU FORGOT, WHILE YOU WERE ENJOYING YOUR NEW POV AT AN ANGLE ADJACENT TO THE FUCKING MOON, YOU TOWERING FREAK. WE'RE STILL. #THESAMEGUY.
HAPPY WRIGGLING DAY KARKAT!!!!! (|:D im gonna find a way to make this the BEST WRIGGLING DAY EVER or at least the best wriggling day we can (|:)
Happy Wriggling Day!! #yourwrigglingday #yippeeyayyippee #positive
krabkrab lookin gud :))
a2 tough a2 iit ii2 two 2ay con2iideriing the iinnumerable wrong2 ii have been dealt by the paw2 of you and your alternate2 or whatever happy wriiggliing day kk