hannibal-and-dory:

feathersescapism:

That wonderful chronic depression thing where you have two good days and you’re like hey, maybe I’ve hit a remiss – 

Thing of some kind: *happens*

Brain: You know, it’s very possible that the entire world is in fact bleak endless pointlessness of human cruelty and faithlessness, selfish self-focused scrabblings across an indifferent void and that after thousands of years of scrambling we barely manage “decency” on a good day and by the time we get anything else we’ll all be knocked back to the start again at best by a major geological catastrophe we are unable to control. 

Me: Erm. 

Brain: Also people hate you, all your work is shallow pap, you’re a self-indulgent self-satisfied piece of garbage and here are all the ways you’ve probably screwed up, upset people and made people hate you today. Also you deserve all of them. The only way you could improve the universe is by dying, except by even thinking about that you are incredibly selfish because it would DESTROY your family. 

Me: So we’re totally not in remission then. 

Brain: Also your cat will die soon because she is old. 

Me: Duly noted. Also go fuck yourself. 

Brain: There’s probably a wasp in your room. 

Me: I would trade you for a small shell script in a heartbeat, I want you to know that. 

I love you