life’s a game, life’s a joke
The bad days, though—man, the bad days, he forgets what he’s doing right smack in the middle of doing it. He’ll be cracking eggs into a skillet for breakfast and suddenly it’s like he’s stuck, glitching, staring at his own greyed fingers curled around the brittle shell like they belong to someone else, because he can’t remember if he was making an omelet or fried eggs or the hash scramble Pap likes so much, and showing up with the wrong breakfast is tantamount to not showing up at all.
(In which the uf!skeleton brothers also just kind of showed up one day in town. sans, in spite of his brain’s best efforts, starts to remember.)
little blue pills to help me sleep
Sans wakes up in a dumpster.
This…is not as uncommon as it actually should be.