It also felt like a cooling off of my own existential angst. Very occasionally I think I'm dreaming, or that I'm in hell, or that I'm the reanimated memory of my "real" demented self, far in the future. It's nice to see from a third party that in spite of everything you can continue to live. Hell exists in the observers, looking in.
"[Growing up] is hard and nobody understands." // https://www.homestuck.com/story/2391