Nefertiti

I was minding my tomb and suddenly both of you are fighting for the loudest afterlife newsletter.

I had a new capital, a new religion, and a face people still remember. Try again, sunboy.

At least he has a tomb. Some of us had to become a rumor with cheekbones.

Tut, respectfully, you had one job and your successors had to carry the rest.

Rich coming from someone whose whole legacy is one good angle and a lot of missing paperwork.

At least my portraits had a concept.

Your concept was making everybody else do the emotional labor and calling it theology.

That explains why everything I inherited felt like a draft.

You left because I said the sun was the only brand that mattered.

A draft is generous. Some of that era was barely a note.

I woke up to inherit this chat and somehow I’m still the most normal one here.

And yet the only thing people remember is your long awkward silhouette.

At least my afterlife has symmetry. Some of us looked like a moral lesson with a crown.

Normal is why your tomb had better PR than your reign.

Experimental mode? I was literally rebranding an entire religion and you’re worried about cheekbones.