1993

1993 was the date everything changed. People say it was 1992. You'll hear that a lot. They'll blame that specific date for every damn thing. It's like they were there. Like they saw it and lived through it. That's not possible. 1992 was the date everything stopped. Nothing happened during that time because that time didn't exist. That whole year was taken from us because of that... that thing. that symbol. Whatever the hell you want to call it. Whatever it was that destroyed our lives.

We didn't feel it. I mean, we were just people. We're always just kinda "people". Our bodies aren't built to notice all this crazy shit. We know when we're thirsty, or when it's too bright, or when someone's just behind us in a quiet room. We don't know when we're being retconned. When our universe is unraveling, or becoming hyper-raveled, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Whatever the FUCK 1992 allowed to happen and then 1993 came in and did.

Imagine living a life where you can't even trust the most basic things. Earth never had to bend to our standards, but it usually did, and when it didn't, there was some reason behind it. Science isn't perfect, but it's a framework. Now imagine the world malicious. Imagine our own planet gleefully breaking every single rule over and over and over again. Imagine that shit bending back over itself to contradict as much as possible in one day and then coming back to you the next morning all normal, all apologetic like nothing's happened. Except it did. Except your loved ones are gone. Your home. Your community. Again and again and again.

Imagine all those irrational fears being granted rational foundation. All those monsters in the closets. Bogeymen. Asphalt that eats. The toilet sucking you in and crushing you. Whatever you thought was so stupid, so completely inane and the only reason it scared you was through appreciable absurdity or unexplained phobia. All of that and more. All of that given flesh. More and more and worse and worse. That's where it all comes from. The fish town, the blue dawn, the moss, go crazy go stupid, the piropipes, the sun the sun the sun the sun. All of those memes. Those "jokes." Except they're not.

Maybe you don't live in this world. Maybe you just hear about it and imagine it. Maybe you hear about it and understate it. We were here. They were here too. They're watching. They laugh at it. It's absurdist from the comfort of safety. But it's not funny. Not when it's real people with real desperation. Not when laughter is screaming. Not when you're there. "Surreal comedy." What a crock of shit.

We weren't just "here".

WE COULD NOT LEAVE.

WE COULD **NOT LEAVE.**

**WE *COULD NOT LEAVE.***

***WE COULD NOT LEAVE.***

You'll never understand. It's too late for the blame game. It's everyone's fault. Those caliber 1s. That damn Writer. That damn *Director.* They and their cronies know what they've done. It's too late for them to stop it, but they don't even want to. Without 1992, there wouldn't be any of this. Earth would be what it should have been. The symbol. Yeah, yeah. It was the "real cause" if you need an antagonist. A bookend. But they all knew. God damn, they had to. Every single "higher up" in this "PT universe" - and I'm being straightforward which they'll *never* do - had to have known they were fulfilling all of this for that little comedy center of theirs.

You want to know what's really going on? It's like this: They wanted their world. They wanted their world to be a messed up version of ours. They used a cosmic weapon to make it happen. They let that cosmic weapon out. The Writer still waves it around like a country flaunting a nuke. He's so *proud* of something that was never even his. It's childish. It's literally childish. The worst part isn't that we're lorded over by these cosmic kings. It's that they're fumbling bastards.

There. That's the story. They are the bad guys. They have *always been the bad guys.*

I can't expect you to believe me. I don't even know who you are. I don't even know how you'd receive this information. Hell, you've got no reason to trust me. Who knows how they'll change my words. All for the narrative, right? But I refuse to be a character. I won't put a name. I won't come back. I'm here to say the truth and that's all I need to do. I'm not a person. I'm a fact.

You are always being lied to.