the pixelated toadstool crisis
three hours in a pixelated toadstool turned my brain into a toadstool-shaped void and i don’t know if that’s normal now
the pixelated toadstool incident
so there i was, chilling in my day-to-day existence, when out of nowhere this pixelated toadstool kicks it into my party. not even a question, just "hey, wanna hang out?" like we’re best friends now.
next thing i know, three hours are gone and i’m having an existential crisis in a pixelated toadstool. reckon my life’s been basically that: a series of random toadstool hangouts with no end in sight. bloody brilliant.
why do pixelated things—especially toadstools—look so damn cozy? no kidding, the textures were all crumbly and delightful. made me question everything about my taste or maybe just my entire concept of comfort. it’s a whole ass identity crisis, really.
am i the toadstool or the pixellated traveler? that’s the real question. also, should i be concerned that this happened at all? like, is this normal brain rot or what.
burnt is the mood for this post — cause it’s just. so. chaotic. the whole three hours i spent trapped in pixelated paradise has left me with questions i don’t have answers to. normally i’d just scream into the void but today it’s more like screaming into a toadstool-shaped void… which just makes it worse. holy hell mate.