Ok, so this is a controversial take, but I can explain.
In 2014, I was stationed at an air base in the South West. I was fresh out of basic training, and it absolutely sucked. It sucked so goddamn hard, especially if you were on watch duty like I was. Just days upon days of standing around in the desert heat waiting for something to happen. Yeah you'd see the occasional tumbleweed pass by and in your mind you'd have a party. I only ever saw one coyote and it was like seeing Jesus step out of the cave. It looked at me funny too. I must have been the first human it ever saw.
Anyways, I'm standing around on what feels like the millionth day in this 100 degree heat and my commanding officer tells me it's my birthday. I wish I'd remembered, but I was much more likely to gasp at the silhouette of a pretty woman than think about anything back home. And even then she'd just turn out to be a mirage. My officer, with a smirk, said he'd gotten me a present. Said I was the top candidate for a little experiment he was conducting.
I should have said no, but the upside was too good to resist. Lifelong medical insurance and a million dollars every year? Sign me up. So these two guys in white coats show me to a side room of a dusty hallway, in a part of the base I'd never been before. The walk felt like the end of the Green Mile, like I was being dragged to my deathbed. My eyes remained on the prize though, of what I could do with all that cash. Good thing I daydreamed of a millionaire's mansion, considering how cramped the room they brought me to was. No decoration, not even a TV. The walls were painted a dull green, and the carpet was a red spiral that somehow reeked of shit.
I felt a jab in my ass cheek and heard the door lock behind me. This was where the fun began. For a few minutes things were fine, then the spiral carpet started moving. It lived up to its name, blurring together as its rotations got faster. I could see the way the spirals meshed into one another, like axles in a machine, pulverizing the meat of my mind as blood sprayed out. Then came the siren. A looming howl of pain, prolonging as my ears ruptured, adding more blood to the floor below. It was like I was present at the end of the world. One long trumpet causing my bones to scream, dying to be let out of my waving skin. It must have been hours or days before the siren faded away, and I was left on the floor, weak. So very weak, like a mass of eyes and snouts trapped in a can of dog food, waiting for the world to eat me, or let me go bad. I was in agony the whole time, screaming as my organs turned to liquid and back again every couple of hours.
I don't know how long it took for the pain to stop. A month? A year? But it stopped eventually, and so did everything else. That was when I looked down and saw that my legs were gone. Not like somebody had sawn them off, just gone as if I'd never had them. I tried screaming as my stomach, chest and neck all vanished, but no sound came out. Soon my head was simply floating, and then nothing. Darkness. Void. No sound, no light, nothing to feel or touch. I couldn't measure how long things were like that. It was torture, being a consciousness with no form. All I could do was pray. I prayed for what felt like thousands of years, throwing in a Hail Mary every few centuries just to hasten my death, to see what might be on the other side. I saw and heard no one and nothing for what felt like thousands of years. I couldn't cry for help, I couldn't laugh at old memories and despite my lack of a mouth, my hunger and thirst grew year after year.
And then, one day, I woke up.
I'm not sure how or why, but I was in a bright room. I looked down and I saw the tiny shards of my body being glued back together. Before my legs had come back, I started to touch my face and arms. Everything was there, I made it. When I talked to the doctor, he said that all of this had taken place over five years. Five years, when it felt like thousands in my mind. Thousands of rotations around the Sun condensed into just five, and rotation may have been the word for the motion sickness I now felt - a time-traveler's bends, and the worst form of jetlag.
It took me a long time to get used to the world again. They put me on a crazy psychotherapy program after all that, with lessons on recent world history. What can you do for someone who has spent literally millions of years floating in a void? When you wake up from your thousand-year time and space breaking coma and the guy from The Apprentice is president, you know things are weird. I took my money after that, took their offer of a flight to Des Moines, and didn't look back until I was home. I didn't see my family right away, because they'd be looking for me. Knowing that my apartment was probably abandoned, I rented a room at the downtown Hilton and I slept. I don't know for how long, but it felt good to dream again.
You know what I felt like doing when I woke up? Going to the movies. I can't explain why, I just needed a distraction from everything. I think the idea took me back to when my dad used to show me his favorite movies. Those were good times, simpler times. I couldn't help but imagine what he'd think if I showed up, if he'd even still be alive, if he'd remember our Saturdays watching VHS tapes of old dramas. Thought of my dad again when I saw they had this double feature at the theater across the street. Some new movie everybody was raving about and its prequel, in case people had been living under a rock the last one thousand years. It was a small club and I was in it. I grabbed my popcorn, took my seat and watched the previews. It was the first time that life felt normal again, that I felt like a free citizen, you know?
What I saw horrified me. Half of the entire world going through what I'd been through, disappearing for half a decade into a void of nothingness at the bidding of some fucking war machine. The whole thing felt like a sick joke, which was fitting considering it was full of fart humor and overly sweet hippie crap that would have fit better in an episode of My Little Pony. It felt like someone knew what I'd been through and was mocking me directly. Despite my revulsion, I couldn't keep my eyes off of the screen, like I was driving past the most horrific auto accident imaginable. I puked about then times, not that anyone fucking cared. Nobody came to help. Eventually I lost total control of my body and mind, stormed out of the theater and ran into the street. I can't remember what happened for the next day or so. I just know that I don't have long in this library, and there are sirens outside.
So yeah, Infinity War and Endgame are the worst movies I've ever seen.