Cause That Leads To Regret

Just give the thing two layers of explanation. One to explain the specific problem, and another one explaining the explanation. Have an example:

Plot hole 1: If the vampires can't stand daylight, why couldn't they just move around underground?

Solution 1: They can't go underground, the sewer system of the city is full of giant alligators who would eat them.

Well, that's a very quick and simple explanation, which sure opens up additional questions.

Plot hole 2: How and why the fuck are there alligators in the sewers? How do they survive, what do they eat down there when there's no vampires?

Solution 2: The nuns of the Underground Monastery feed and take care of them as a part of their sacred duties.

It takes exactly two layers to create an illusion that every question has an answer - that it's just turtles all the way down. And if you're lucky, you might even find that the second question's answer loops right back into the first one, filling up the plot hole entirely:

Plot hole 3: Who the fuck are the sewer nuns and what's their point and purpose?

Solution 3: The sewer nuns live underground in order to feed the alligators, in order to make sure that the vampires don't try to move around via the sewer system.

“Its lazy for cashiers to sit down

👅 Dimples

a child 10,000 years ago left a handprint on a wall. they were fingerpainting. a viking climbs up a rock just to carve the words "this is very high" 10ft off the ground. somebody centuries... milennia... ago burned their dinner so thoroughly that they buried the ruined pot in the backyard rather than attempt to clean it. shakespeare got drunk and wrote dick jokes. tutankhamun was a little boy who liked ducks more than anything. a roman carves his name into a monument in another country saying "i was here". a prisoner, centuries ago, in the tower of london scratches lines into the wall as a tally marking the days. a medieval monk scrawls in the margins bemoaning the boredom of his work.

but all of us, every one, has a deep primal need to persist. we leave handprints on the wall, scratch our names into stones, carve initials into a tree, mark our growth as children on a wall, bury little time capsules. write in the margins of a book. hide notes behind the wallpaper.

reaching out into the future to some unknown human long after we're gone to say

here i re-wrote it as a poem to fit your tag

Somewhere far away from me And impossibly long ago, now A mother holds her child up high To leave a handprint on the wall

A man I will never meet Climbs a rock for fun He writes a message on the stone And he says “this is very high”

Somebody, once Cooked a meal and burned it Took the pot to the land outside their house And buried the evidence

An Egyptian king Thousands of years before my birth Wore a shirt embroidered with little ducks And kept it, lovingly, in a chest

In a prison cell within a tower A man stretches out through centuries And marks off the days of his sentence As lines on the wall

A long-forgotten monk Labours over a manuscript by candlelight And writes in the margins He is bored, and he has a hangover

They leave pieces of themselves behind And they say

“I was here I was here please do not forget me I was alive and I loved and I got sick I had a favourite animal I was here. Do you love me? I love you”

Yes, I do. I hold your life between my hands And I see it, and I love you

I scratch my name into a rock On a tree, I carve my initials And the initials of someone I love So very much

I bury a box in my garden And I write in the margins I reach into the future To somebody I do not know

A stranger who will never know me

“Hello, you” I say “I was here, once. I loved and I got sick and I had a favourite colour

please do! i wrote it for you, stranger i will never meet

and if you print it then maybe somebody finds it, somewhere, in the back of a drawer in 100 years and hold it in their hands and love me as i love them