LOOP - Apocalypse on Autoplay

Apocalypse on Autoplay The world is already falling apart around him. The sky doesn’t look right anymore. Buildings in the distance are cracked open and the dust moves through the air in slow waves. Fires burn all over this decayed world and they've been burning so long that it almost feels normal and we've all grown used to the smell and odors that mess with our breathing A little boy sits outside in the middle of it all, a television plugged into nothing that should still work but it does. The screen glows against the ruin. Static flickers at the edges, but the picture keeps trying to hold itself together. He leans forward slightly, eyes locked in, waiting. Waiting for the next thing. Another show. Another headline. Another viral moment. Another idea that promises to feel big enough to matter. The world glitches around him. Pieces collapse. The signal distorts. But he doesn’t look away. His face shifts with whatever plays. Excitement for a second. Curiosity. A small spark in his eyes. Then it fades. The feeling never lasts. The boy keeps watching because the next one might be different. The next clip might finally fill the space inside his chest that feels hollow and undefined. The next big thing might finally feel like enough. But it never is. Outside, everything decays in slow motion. Inside the screen, everything moves fast. And the boy stays there, glued to the glow, searching for something that was never in the program to begin with. The world keeps ending. The loop keeps playing. “The world was collapsing behind him, but he was still waiting for the next episode to save him.” AKA Chambo (Digital Artwork) 2026