I admire that I was able to sneak through a season of Bojack Horseman in the week when I was rushing for the final paper. I have long known that it is notoriously mean and disgusting. When I first watched it, I was shocked by those little darkness. Later, it got better, and there was a strange pleasure. When I met the aunt who pinched her feet with precision, the effect was a little sore and a little painful, but you have to admit that she was pressed to the point. It also works wonders for Zoe (relatively pessimistic) who needs to drink chicken soup all the year round. Maybe I will feel comforted after seeing the fragility, negativity and darkness in others, so I feel normal.
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