Comment by trix on Honey Bear - Chapter 92.5

and I hope your grocery cart always has that one wheel that squeaks like it’s narrating your every move, and may it also drift slightly to one side so you look like you’re steering through an invisible obstacle course, and I hope every fruit you buy looks perfect on the outside but has a suspiciously disappointing interior, like it gave up halfway through existing, and may your bread always have one slice that’s noticeably smaller for no reason, forcing you into an unbalanced sandwich situation, and I hope your butter is always either too hard to spread or so soft it practically melts into existential regret, and may your fridge light flicker just enough to make you wonder if you imagined it, and I hope every time you pour a drink it fills just a bit too close to the top so you have to walk with exaggerated caution like you’re transporting a volatile experiment, and may your ice cubes always stick together in a single stubborn clump that refuses to cooperate until you’ve committed to an awkward amount of effort, and I hope your internet connection remains technically functional but just unstable enough to make every page load feel like a test of patience rather than a convenience, and may every video you watch default to the worst possible quality for a few seconds too long, and I hope your headphones always catch on something as you walk away, gently reminding you that freedom is conditional, and may your battery percentage drop faster than expected at the exact moment you decide not to bring a charger, and I hope your charger cable slowly twists itself into an abstract sculpture that no amount of untangling ever fully resolves, and may your apps update at the most inconvenient times, rearranging things just enough to make you question your memory, and I hope your notifications arrive in clusters so you never quite feel caught up