It's becoming very trendy these days for young people to diagnose themselves with being Cursed by the Pharaohs. Frankly, I'm sick of it. I think it's an insult to what I go through as someone who actually did violate the sacred tomb of the Egyptian royals and went through the process of being legitimately diagnosed by a world-famous archaeologist with a soothing voice and a mysterious past. The Pharaoh's Curse isn't some cute aesthetic you can throw on to get a few likes on Instagram. It's an affliction some of us have to deal with our whole lives, and also afterwards. When Ramses IV successfully kills me, my heart will be eaten by Ammit, Great of Death, and I don't think I should have to pretend to share that with some snot-nosed kid who coughed up a few grains of red, desert sand ONCE.














