Чайлдфри

It seems someone has finally taken "helpful advice" to its logical conclusion. He listened to every guru on the internet so diligently that he even arranged his own death according to instructions - with a checklist, a playlist, and a cheerful postscript. Dancing at funerals, shampoo with toad extract, dinner with Satan - it's all like the best self-help tutorials, only with the smell of sulfur and irony. Beneath this frantic pace, there seems to be a tired smirk hidden: from endless rules, coaches, and promises of "how to live right." In this hell, even the devil sings melodically, and a person is still trying to be "the way they should be." It's scary, funny, and painfully familiar - when well-meaning advice sounds louder than your own thoughts.