Crabs amaze me. They’re the perfect life form, a tank made of legs and living hate-armor. It’s not just about their physicality, though; it’s the soul of the crab. See, no crab in the bottomless history of the sea has ever questioned itself, doubted itself, worried, or been afraid. A crab is pure motion. A crab is pure id and unrelenting forward force. Crabs invented the word violence and they will scuttle on the surface of the world while the red giant of Sol creeps closer to devour everywhere we’ve ever known. They will look into the sky and clack their claws and there will be no fear.
Excuse me how the fuck did you create the perfect illustration for what I was trying to express
