There Is No Afterparty

Life keeps moving even when bombs are falling. That's the thing about life-- you won't find a single thing that can halt it. Except one, of course.

There Is No Afterparty, written across a summer of house parties backlit by world-fracturing war and destruction, is about being caught up in life's ceaseless current. The distraction of slowly decaying social contracts, the devastation of genocide in service of state capital, pandemics, etcetera-- they can make 5 years pass in an instant. How can one enjoy the little things with the horizon looking so violent? Yet the little things do still happen- whether you pay attention or not.

Lawrence is caught in the world of the little things; mishaps at NYE parties, awkward interactions at birthday parties, cheap beer, but he can't stop looking out the window. Bombs are falling, and no one seems to notice, or worse-- they don't seem to care.

Fifty grayscale pages, soft-touch laminated covers, packaged with a few stickers and a lot of appreciation.