You can’t swing straight, you’re too gay

Your army is a 3 year old drooling baby and someone who doesn’t know how to swing a hammer

$4.55

Try me.

No. I’m a bread hater.

Check again.

I now hate bread.

How one slice of bread jumpstarted my hate towards bread: a short thread

I go down, but never go up.
I can be spent, but I can never be bought.
I am something we all have, but can’t live without.
What am I?

Tonight, we die in the dark, or live to see the dawn of a new day.

(This is just a saying of mine, don’t look for any deeper meaning.)

That’s all.

But I’ll be fine. That’s always what I say, and what it’ll always be in the end. Because no matter what, I have no one else to blame for my actions except for me, myself, and I. Whoever they may be now.

This is basically the equivalent of speaking into a void of nothingness, but I can’t bare to face someone I know and speak about my issues. I never can. But I know these will end up being seen, and that someone will end up asking me what’s wrong. That’s just how it goes, really.

Even these damn contracts I made just end up fucking with my head. Like I’m forcing people to just stay around, like I’m tying them to a post and telling them to sit. I feel awful but I’m always told that it’s all okay and that I’m a good friend. And yet, I don’t feel like one.

I treat my friends awfully, I just feel like a leech. I can’t get myself to do anything meaningful no matter how hard I try. I just feel like I’m manipulating those around me so I can figure out who I am or what I want.

So now I just sit here alone with my thoughts, trying to figure out if I’m content with my life. And honestly, no, I’m not. I’m surrounded and haunted by my stupid choices, constantly reminded how badly I fuck things up, and my own mentality doesn’t really help anything

It started as a little funny bit in a friend group, the whole ‘mr identity crisis’ with how often I changed my name and pfp. So I just kinda went with it, but now I feel like I can’t just stick to one name because then I just feel fake.

Sometimes I wonder. Who am I, really? I’ve had so many faces, so many names. Hell even my real name doesn’t even feel like it fits me anymore. It’s gotten to the point where it’s not even a joke that I can’t stick with just one name, I’m genuinely lost on who I am or who I want to be.

Y’know what, I fuck with that

Alright. . .

“I’m not at that chapter yet” type energy

You forgot about the fact the stranger can call upon eldritch horrors beyond anyones imagination, as well as just being able to open portals without any issue.

Chat, allow me to show you

The contract.

YOU SHUT.

A CONTRACT?

I can read, you just can’t spell.

Billford propaganda is far from peak.

…This discussion ends here.