SNAP. Day over. SNAP. Day over. SNAP. Day over.

I’ve seen people do it. Make videos, millions of hits. When you watch them, you see the disease named Age taking over them, consuming their likeliness.

But it’s mesmerising. Seeing a change from every photo. And yet, I questioned ‘why don’t I do it’

So I did.

217 selfies in, and I know I have a way to go but to see a change in my face from even a month apart, it’s crazy. I look like a different person.

Hairs grown, beard scraggly, eyes tired. I’m the same yet completely different person. I don’t understand it.

Even when I get to photo 365 and think, ‘Everyday for a year I’ve been doing this’, it won’t nearly be enough.

Handsome Jack... that psychotic son of a taint. He claims he’s the hero, coming to our planet, calling us bandits. It’s all he’s ever known.

The earthquakes? Where’d you think they come from? It’s those damn eridium drills, sucking at the resources of Pandora.

All for what? The things the Vault Hunters care here for? Fake promises? No. This is something much worse.

Handsome Jack torments us, claiming his diamond pony named butt stallion is chump change, whilst we scrap for crumbs.

He’s not unfamiliar with the Sanctuary crew either. Seducing Moxxi, Tannis, hell even Lilith. He gets what he wants whether he pays you, beats you or kills you.

In his eyes, Handsome Jack is the hero of Hyperion. The hero, of his story.

It wasn’t worth much, but they didn’t care, money is money.

A bead of sweat rolled down their head, etching further and unknowingly put the price of this job right on the edge.

But why a pretzel hut? Shouldn’t I have known I’m gluten intolerant. And bunny’s at a zoo? That cannot be right.

I remember waking up that morning and holding my boiling cup of coffee, scolding the roof of my mouth. Becoming a mindless being. My thoughts are scattered as I return back to the moment out of memory alone. How is this possible?

I put down the bunny and take a drag from my cigarette. The world deteriorated around me, a purple shroud, crunching down all matter, except me.

As I breathed out, the smoke also became purple ash. Taking a closer look, the purple haze turned into numbers. Echoing in the distance was a gradual bellow.

“Hello again” the deep voice uttered.

“Let’s try this one more time” said the mysterious voice gracefully. It’s was neither male nor female.

In a dampened fashion, 7 words repeated themselves; “East, 33, Renegade, Position, Key, 19, Visible”

A sharp flash of light cuts my eyes.

I’m back.

Holding my boiling cup of tea, start recalling memories.

Once we went to the Churro hut at the petting zoo, while I held a Guinea Pig.

A man was interviewing for a job and the interviewer said, “In this job we need someone who is responsible.”

“I’m the one you want,” the man replied,”At my last job every time anything went wrong, they said I was responsible.”