The ninth day

By loading the map, you agree to Google's privacy policy.
Learn more

Load map

Always unblock Google Maps

Woke up, and I was 35.

Nine years had past since The First Day.

Well, okay, I thought, then I turned on Twitter, and then I said:

What.

The.

Fuck.

Have.

You.

Done.

?

So I went and had a few drinks.

Then I took a train home, and even when I was home in the little space of my room, I couldn’t quite comprehend it:

Almost half of all American eligible voters hadn’t voted at all.

Almost half of all those who had voted had done so for Trump, a billionaire deeply entangled in the financial and political spheres of the US who presented himself as an “outsider” and ran his campaign on a platform of hate and ridiculous promises.

This was the worst birthday ever.