[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
–
Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
My coworker (football bear) was in my department all day and he kept picking up his shirt hem to wipe his sweaty face and his entire fuzzy tummy was out every single time 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 life is full of wonders
i've said this before but listen, as someone who keeps up with leaks it is INCREDIBLY difficult to not start screaming about Arlecchino. i know this is a Foul Legacy blog but oh my goddddddd
getting into actual angry arguments: awful. terrible. going to be thinking about it for the rest of the day. leaves me seething about what I could have said differently for the rest of my life.
getting into friendly debates: ohhhhhh enrichmennce.. :) mine brain is so full and thinking..........yippie yaaaaaay!!!!!!
Just finished The Silt Verses episode 41 and am now inconsolable at 3 in the morning with work in 6 hours. Yes I know better than to listen to The Silt Verses at bedtime, but the dark and the quiet and the lure of a new episode got to me.
And there's another one waiting. I can't afford another hour of wakefulness that might bring me to meltdown again. I am weak, but also exhausted. I think I can force myself to save it.
The thing is, it's not even the deaths that got to me. It's the millennia of lonely hungry suffering; and the hope of kindness, and a friendly face making the signs of their private languages, long forgotten. To remind them, even after all the centuries, that they were once loved.
I'm gonna have a pickle and some water before I give myself a cry hangover.