July 24th, 2018
I damn near forgot about this journal, but Captain America reminded me of how stressed out I am and that reminded me of this journal. My heart aches and my mind is racing. Steve Roger, the golden boy of America, took to social media. I know, the 1940s war hero on TikTok sounds crazy, but I think he just stood in front of the camera and they wanted to reach as many people as possible.
Apparently the Avengers found the son of a bitch who killed half of all life on the universe and failed to find out how to reverse the effects of whatever he did. Steve Rogers told us all that it was hopeless. The people we had lost are gone for good and there is nothing they can do about it. I had hoped the Avengers could have saved them, even after what happened.
Oh, but good news. Tony fucking Stark has been saved from the cold recesses of space. Yippee.
You know what really pisses me off about this whole thing is that the Avengers can sit in their little bunker and tell us "oops sorry, we messed up". I lost the love of my life, and they think sorry is a fine fucking thing to say? Who did they lose? How can they possibly know how we feel? Stark still has his wife, they still have each other. They just announced that they're pregnant for gods sake. Who are they to tell us that they understand our pain?