The world may be cracked and bleeding, a carnival of bad news and political sideshow barkers screaming themselves hoarse. But lift your eyes to the sky and you’ll see that none of it matters in the long run. Out here, under this cosmic riot of green and blue dust, the Milky Way is spilling its guts across the black dome of the night like some celestial crime scene. Billions of stars burning, roaring, collapsing, exploding and yet it all lands here in silence, a cathedral ceiling painted in chaos and beauty.

This is the reminder, the drug, the unshakable truth: the world is still goddamn beautiful. Even when the headlines reek of rot, even when human beings gnaw at each other like rabid dogs in a cage fight, the sky keeps on with its mad fireworks show. No one owns it, no one can vote it out or buy it up. It’s pure, savage, unfiltered proof that life is bigger than our petty miseries.

So take the chaos with a stiff drink and a grin. Look up. The universe doesn’t care about your deadlines, your bills, or your bone-deep dread of tomorrow. It just burns, loud and bright and endless. And if you’re lucky enough to stand in the dark and see it for yourself, that’s your ticket out of the madness, even if only for a moment.