Corrupted Absolutely

A hooded figure walks on a dark beach towards a city among the stars, positively glowing with promise in the unfeeling void. It’s unclear whether

Aim high, and be prepared to fall really fucking far Stars and a landscape and some deeply suspicious smoke form the background for this almost

Thousands upon thousands of daffodil blooms explode and overlap, shining through the last cold days and welcoming the sun in spring. The title text is

It is the Strange Times, and every single person on the planet, even the boring ones, is unspeakably, unknowably WEIRD. You can read more about

An except from a poem written for a character with a bit of a problem in the “catastrophic obstinance” department. An icon floats in a

From a description of depersonalization and derealization disorder, wherein the subject frequently suffers from the feeling that they or their surroundings are somehow not real,