2020 you can fuck off right now, because it has been a while since we realised you are faulty and it seems like the warranty card has been misplaced by Gods.

So you have to leave. Just go. We can’t deal with you anymore.

I’d rather go back to the year of my board exams.

I’d rather go back to my prepubescent days of squeaky voice and bad dressing choices than bear even a single more minute of this fuckall year.

Every day of 2020 feels like a plot twist in Wild Wild Country, only more insane. We got your point. Tough titties. You win. Go now.

Go, because otherwise it will be the first time in history that people will be protesting against a year.

2020 has become a sadistic, twisted form of Roadies where the tasks begin the moment you open your eyes in the morning.

And they continue till you finally find sleep (if you can, that is).

There is struggle, only struggle and no bikes as a reward. 

Which is strange to me because these days I think I deserve a medal even for brushing my teeth.

There are eliminations too. Sudden and unfair.

Those were our best players, did you not realise? They were the stars of the show. 

The ones who watch the Earth from above, tuned in just to see these guys, and look, they called them. 

We will always hold a grudge against you for letting that happen.

2020 is so bad, Pentagon has released footage of UFOs. 

Even they know that no one cares at this point, and if anything, people might be jazzed about meeting the aliens since they can’t meet anyone else.

Next thing you know, they open Area 51 for strolls after the lockdown and personally show footage of moon landing being staged (I am a non-believer say what you want to say).

2020 is oblivious to the concept of ‘moderation’ and so please stop fucking tweeting shit like this because guess what, it might just come true.

2020, the tough time you have given us hasn’t resulted in any kind of character development and we would like to say fuck you from the bottom of our hearts once again.