Living in 2025 feels like surviving the apocalypse but everyone else thinks it’s Coachella
🧵Thread
Remember when the world collectively cared for like… two weeks?
Now it’s “COVID’s over” while the ER is a revolving door and your barista’s on their 3rd infection this year.
Wearing a mask now gets you side-eyes like you brought a chainsaw to a baby shower.
Oh I’m sorry Karen, did my precaution ruin your aerosol party?
Healthcare settings?
Still a mask-free buffet for airborne pathogens.
Because nothing says "we care" like infecting patients with vibes.
They told us COVID would become “mild.”
They didn’t say it’d be mildly destroying organs one infection at a time like a chill little horror movie.
“Back to normal” means:
No paid sick days
No clean air
Not a mask in sight
Meanwhile, Long COVID is quietly becoming a mass disabling event.
But shhh. Don’t ruin the fun. Just gaslight yourself into gratitude and cough into the void.
And if you do care?
You're a "fearmonger."
You're "living in the past."
You're "overreacting."
No. I just like breathing and not being a vector of biohazard, thanks.
We aren’t “living with the virus.”
We’re dying with it, pretending it’s networking.
But you know what?
The COVID-conscious crew? We’re resilient as hell.
Masked, filtered, exhausted, informed — and still here.
That’s not fear. That’s strength.
You can laugh at us now.
But one day you’ll wish you'd joined us when the air was still free and the damage wasn't permanent.
End/
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Parenting right now feels like tucking your kid in while the world burns outside—then whispering,
"You’re safe."
Even when you’re not sure that’s true. 🧵
You’re raising a child in a world you barely recognize.
Trying to give them a normal childhood while everything feels like collapse in slow motion.
You pack lunches and grief in the same backpack.
You hum lullabies while checking the air quality.
You Google “best crayons” and “how to talk to kids about death”
in the same breath.
Being overwhelmed doesn’t always look like crying on the floor.
Sometimes it looks like showing up with a smile.
Replying, “I’m good!”
Working. Parenting.
Functioning.
And quietly falling apart when no one’s watching.
You answer emails. You make dinner. You keep the world spinning for everyone else.
But inside?
You’re exhausted. Not just physically, but existentially.
The kind of tired that sleep can’t touch.
No one sees the weight you carry.
The invisible grief.
The decisions.
The guilt.
The fear of letting something drop—because if you stop moving, everything might fall.
The skies are orange. The air is smoke. The earth is burning.
We are not in a disaster movie.
This is the disaster.
And it’s only just beginning.
🧵
Wildfires are no longer "seasonal."
They're constant, catastrophic, and creeping closer to where we live, work, and raise our children.
The forests are dry. The rivers are low. The winds are hot.
Our planet is screaming.
This isn't "nature doing its thing."
It’s what happens when we torch the planet for profit, deny science, and sell the future for a quarterly gain.
Fossil fuels are killing us. And yet, the machine keeps going — faster, hotter, more deadly.
The World Feels Hostile — And You’re Not Imagining It 🧵
Lately, everything feels heavier.
Conversations are shorter.
People are on edge.
Smiles don’t quite reach eyes anymore.
You feel it, right? The tension? The wear?
It’s not just you.
We’re being asked to live like nothing’s wrong—
while everything is wrong.
While people are getting sick and not recovering.
While the climate is spinning out.
While leaders gaslight us into thinking things are “back to normal.”
You go to the store, the doctor’s office, your kid’s school—
and it’s like compassion left the building.
Everyone’s pretending we’re fine.
But underneath, we’re burnt out, grieving, scared.
Disinformation isn’t a glitch.
It’s the system.
And it’s going to kill us.
Not in some far-off future—
Now.
Because mass death is profitable, and the truth is bad for business
🧵
People were slaughtered by lies.
Lied to about masks.
Lied to about vaccines.
Lied to about the air they breathe.
Lied to until they walked, grinning, into their own graves.
And now?
We’re being told to “move on.”
Move on from a virus that still spreads.
Still kills.
Still disables.
Still warps lives and bodies.
But the billionaires are bored.
So the suffering gets memory-holed.
The COVID-conscious community is fracturing — and we need to talk about it.
Because if we don’t, we’re going to lose more than the fight for clean air.
We’re going to lose each other.
We’ve been gaslit by governments, mocked by the media, and abandoned by public health.
We watched the world move on while people are still dying, still getting sick, still becoming disabled — every day.