Link to article: A Fish Saves The Day In This One.
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[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] You have been unemployed for exactly two hours, and you have decided it's the worst thing that's ever happened to you. Sure, you hated that job, but it was a //job//. It was a routine, it was a purpose, but most importantly, it was a stable source of income. You exist in a capitalist world and you cannot exist anywhere else, sorry. You //must// pay bills and rent and taxes and for food and for clothes and for water and for everything. And now you cannot do that. You have about a hundred and fifty dollars left in your account. Which is basically nothing. Ever since your lover left you, you've been pinching pennies. And sure, you can probably bounce back. But you're so fucking tired of bouncing back. Life will just keep shoving you down. You get back up just to get back down. It's a pointless cycle. No meaning, beyond hurting. Scratch the earlier statement. Getting fired was not the worst thing that's ever happened to you. Being born was. Sloth's Pit is a lot of things. It's a town. It's a community. It's a place full of shitty food. But it's most defining factor is the weirdness. Everyone knows the town was weird. Right now, it's raining fish. This is normal for everyone. The last couple Halloweens have been a clusterfuck ([https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/black-autumn-hub Killer pumpkins], [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/rise-of-the-pit-sloth-hub fucked up sloth thing], [https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/prevent-getting-sick/prevention.html#:~:text=In%20those%20situations%2C%20use%20as,sick%20or%20who%20tested%20positive. COVID]). People moved on. July 4th. People moved on. People have died horrible deaths. People moved on. Supernatural is more natural than super now. And that makes things even worse for you. Because your problems are so fucking //benign//. This has happened to millions of people, millions of times. Everyone's lost their job for unfair reasons, at some point. Everyone's gone through a bad break-up that's partially their own fault, at some point. This, this suffering, is normal. There is no greater meaning behind, no evil [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/sandrewswann-s-proposal deity pulling the strings] to cause you the most amount of pain. It's just life. This is the world we made. We dug this hole, and we might as well lay in it. The thought always lingered in the back of your skull. You were always aware of its existence, but never spoke of it, careful not to stir it from its slumber. It is a sleeping bear and you've been softly treading around it your entire life. Aren't you tired of living life on the tips of your toes? Embrace the fear. Walk up to that bear and kick it awake. There's a hunger deep within you. Not a physical hunger, though it has been a while since you've last ate. It's a hunger for change. Your life has been stagnant. You fall, you rise, you fall, nothing ever changes. You can make the change. You can hold your life in your hands, and you can finally let go. Sometimes, broken things can't be fixed. Think of it as a long sleep. Rest your heavy eyelids. It'll be so easy, you know? The human body is a contradiction. Your femur is stronger than steel, but you can break your neck just by falling down some stairs. Your organs are a technical masterpiece, but if you lick the wrong doorknob, they become goop. Your vessel can be so easily destroyed. Just step outside. No need for your umbrella, getting hit by a few falling fish is nothing compared to what's going to happen next. One foot in front of the other, yes, just like that. Throw away your phone, you won't need it where you're going. Out into the road. Lay down in the middle and wait. It's dark out and by the time the driver will see you, you'll already be roadkill. Go on, lay down, imagine that it's your be- AH, FUCKER **For a brief moment, you think you see a figure next to you. A trout just landed on its head** Motherfucking . . . Ahem. Where was I? Ah, right. Lay down, come on, we don't have al- ACH **Again, the figure gets hit by a falling fish. A lake sturgeon, this time. The figure buckles and sways, clutching its head. You have the faint feeling something is wrong. The tone is off. Unfitting. A stranger writes your story.** Shit, shit, shit, it's catching onto me. Hurry up! Hurry the fuck up and lay down and just die already! The story ends like this: You fucking die. You were born to die. Accept that, now lay down, feed me, before this stupid fucking town enforces the Rule of Thre- . . . Fuck. **The figure slowly tilts its head up, catching a good look at the massive pike that's about to crush it. You step away in the nick of time as the figure is completely and utterly crushed underneath the bulk of the fish. Dead.** **A false narrative, that's all it was. Your mind made it. You believed the world was cold and uncaring and cruel, and your mind made it so. It was not some natural occurring phenomena, it was a lie. The world is not cold. The world is not cruel. The world loves you. It exists for you. Oh, how it wishes it could flap its hand and fix everything in your life, but it can't. That's not how things work. Wouldn't make for a very satisfying story, would it? But it promises this. You will recover. You will rise above. You will be beaten and bruised, bloody and broken, but you'll be alive. You'll //win//. The world knows many things, many lies, many truths. It speaks every tongue that ever existed, even some that never did. It has lived every life that's ever been lived, and has died every death that's ever died. It has watched countless empires rise and fall. It has watched you from the moment you left the womb and the moment you'll enter your final resting place.** **So believe it when it says this. You are stronger than you think you are. It loves you.** The fish storm has passed. The locals have gathered around, gawking at the truly massive fish. You think you see one of the Plastic People poking the peculiar pike with a pair of prongs. No one is aware of the dead False-Narrator crushed underneath it, and they never will be. You take a deep breath. Okay. You've lost your job. You've gone through a bad break-up. Not the end of the world. You can bounce back. And sure, maybe you'll get knocked back down. But each time you fall, you get a little bit stronger. And one day, your feet will be firmly planted into the ground and you'll find that nothing will ever push you down again. But first. You need to go fuckin' eat something, god damn you're hungry, like holy shit you're starvin'. . . . Maybe some fish? [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]