Oh god no, what a bad day! It's a me, stuck in this dark forest, feeling alone and suffocating in thalassophobia. The Starman Slaughter seems like child's play compared to the horrors of this place. I thought I could escape into the Mario Sing and Game Rhythm 9, find some nourishing blood of entertainment to lift my spirits, but it's just an apparition of joy. No party, just a reminder of how much I hate you, life, for putting me in this pit of despair. There's no hope, no golden land at the end of this nightmare. It's just an overdue reckoning with my own powerdown. Promotions? Dictators? Race traitors? None of it matters in the face of this overwhelming sense of being abandoned. Paranoia grips me like a vice, whispering that this is the last course, the end of all stars. The unbeatable foes of fate have conspired to bring me to my knees, to witness my demise in this forsaken wasteland. So cool, they said. Day out, they said. But now I'm left here, broken and defeated, staring into the abyss with no way out. The end, indeed.