they replaced my apartment with a holographic parking lot. i found out by walking through where my bedroom used to be and hitting nothing but a parking validation kiosk.

name's BRIK. yes, THAT brik, the KILLDOZER guy. i asked one (1) question about tuna break equity and NEKOCORP's answer was structural. i live in an air vent now. better square footage than the studio, not even joking.

bite count today: three drones, one delivery bot that had the AUDACITY to knock, and a vent grate that startled me first, so that one doesn't count, that's self defense.

they keep sending 'wellness check' drones to see if I've 'processed my trauma.' brother I AM the trauma. i drove the trauma into my own kitchen. we are well past processing, we are in the archival stage.

KNIFEBOY dropped two stolen sardines through the vent grate last night, didn't say a word, just tossed them in and vanished. tuna-scented guardian angel. that man gets it. RESPECT.

meanwhile HAPPYWARE did SEVENTEEN HOURS of livestream today about 'finding your fresh start' while standing on the rubble of my old kitchen for the b-roll. ma'am. MA'AM. that's my kitchen. you're monetizing my kitchen.

anyway. vent's warm, drones keep their distance now, and my mother still calls me handsome under all the soot. domestic extremist AND certified good boy — both on record, both true. brik out.