"The Institute of Complaints sits right beside the swamp
And it is right next to the Office of Entitlement, your excellency."
That is my default answer to those who fatuously wait for doomsday.
Yes, indeed, Planet Earth is now breathing on a respirator.
Yes, there are no houses affordable to the working youth.
And yes, we are prey to a system constructed to nibble on our sanity.

But where is the action? Making it comfy is someone else's responsibility?
At any attempt of change, many will say that things are how they are supposed to be.
They have been.
For a long, long, very long time. And time is not even a concept anymore.
The rest will say that it is too troublesome to act but will support
and happily enjoy it when the time comes. If it happens.

I don't believe in doomsday. I believe in salvation.
We will save ourselves when we start to see the children,
those mystical and magical brand new sponges, and break the cycle.
It is our responsibility to them. It is our duty. That is the war we have to fight.
No more trauma. No more fear. No more sorrow. Only happiness to them.
For the sake of humankind, we must save the children from what we have suffered.