2017 was a rough, painful fucking year, and goddamn it I’m ready for more.
Pain is just growth fucking with you, like an older sibling convincing you that you are a slombo born in a toilet. 2017, a lot of people hate you because you’re racist AF, killed mad loved ones, precocious world views, and laid a steaming shit covered smackdown of relationships and plans. You are the Secret Wars / Crisis on Infinite Earths / Ragarnok of years.
On the one hand, fuck you and 2016. On the other hand, thank you for teaching me that sometimes it all falls apart and like Mister Miracle or John McClane or Patrick Wilson in that underrated action comedy “Stretch” you gotta truly make this shit storm work for you.
I’m still me, you’re still you. Here’s to the brewing hellscape of 2018.