#fanhell

i didn’t watch a show. i got spiritually mugged.

tadc wasn’t supposed to hit like this. i went in for memes and neon clowns and came out emotionally waterboarded. six episodes, gone in two days. just like that.

curse the living stars and the wretched minds who made this. how dare they make me care about that deranged, soul-mangled freak of a character. i wasn’t asking for catharsis, i was asking for nonsense. now i’m here, raw and unwell, clutching my screen like it owes me therapy.

me and my last two brain cells trying to survive episode 6

A part of me thinks that there’s no sane reason Zooble should be hot. They’re a pile of polygons glued together by divine mistake, a fever dream in motion, and somehow my brain went, yes, that one.

Maybe it’s the swagger. Maybe it’s how they exist like a visual glitch that learned confidence. Everyone else in that cursed circus is melting down while Zooble just lounges there, limbs all wrong, vibe immaculate. It’s not supposed to work, but it does.

They look like gender and chaos had a lovechild, and I’m the fool clapping for it. It’s gone past liking. I’ve been claimed. You stare too long, and something in you just gives up the fight, quietly accepting that this is who you are now, for better or for polygon.

Glory Glory Holeleluja - a collaboration between me and various artists (download)