I am still strongly in favor of responding to a Trump reelection by just going absolutely fucking buck wild.

I've been saying this since the Livejournal days, when I was grappling with my own self-hatred and sense of economic doom (which, uh, basically turned out all right, given my boss told me just today they "couldn't get by without me").

When I got really depressed, I would joke about "running off to join the Sendero Luminoso guerrillas in Peru" for a few years. That way, not only would I probably get the death I was seeking, I'd get some adventure in first... and if I actually survived, I'd come back tan, buff, and stronger than ever.

If there's really no future and nothing to lose, but you're still able-bodied and have resources, what the fuck are you doing hiding in your closet weeping?

If you really, truly believe it's over, you have nothing to lose. EVERYTHING is open to you. Don't a single one of you DARE end your lives, no matter how bad things get, without using the rest of yourself up.

It really doesn't matter what you do. Take a vacation. Quit your job. Get into X-rated yarn bombing. Get a burner phone and spend your days singing obscene folksongs into Mitch McConnell's voice mail. Hook up with randos on Fetlife. Become a graffiti tagger who specializes in chestular vixens stabbing Pepe. Get yourself real bad COVID then visit a megachurch. Do a LOT of MDMA. Walk around town in full rubber hazmat. Paint the interior of your rental apartment with rainbow zebra stripes. Seek death through cruller overdose.

It doesn't fucking matter. Just please, please, please do anything but this bleak shit.