my head hurts. my jaw hurts. my back hurts. i'm so tired. i'm so angry. nothing is fun anymore. i want to be in bed right now.

I'm so fucking angry

finally had some of those beef tallow fries that the nazis are all pissing and shitting and cumming in their pants about. never had a more flavorless, limp, unappetizing carton of french fries. deeply sauceless, just like the soft-penised, right wing shitlickers that worship them.

would you be upset if i told you we were meowing?

taxes and then I'll stream

I'm not trying to hide, but I'm scared to reach out to people. I want to talk, but I don't want to bother you guys. I want to join in, but I don't think I belong. I want to ask if I can play too, but I don't think I deserve to.

I'm tired

“All Money is Blood Money” - a rabbit-headed knight crouches, staring down the viewer and cleaning blood from a greatsword. They’re sitting on what initially appears to be a headless body, but there is no flesh, only green bills spilling from the neck and arms. A decorative border surrounds the image.

Never forget —

being a quirky white boy isn't a title that's owned, it's leased, and rent is due every damn day

No, no, wait, let the little one with the axe cook, I wanna hear where she's going with this...

Let's ask ourselves some questions:

How do they know if you're a kid? Your ID. Now they know who you are, what you searched, who you talked to, what you said, and what they said to you. If they deem ANY of that to be against their interests, they know where you live too!

And is that a good thing?

But have we paused to consider that sex can be about emotionally connecting with one's self, and that sometimes the top just needs to be a faceless blob that doesn't matter?

I've seen the Welch's Grape, but not the Grape-Cran. I'll keep an eye out.

when does Alice show up?

Plate acting like it’s made out of glass YouTube video by CookedNotFried

youtube.com/shorts/hZx66...

tired

Unrelated: Top Tier kitchen/apartment/space

today is my stream anniversary

Text from the Encyclopedia Britannica that reads: dramatic irony, a literary device by which the audience’s or reader’s understanding of events or individuals in a work surpasses that of its characters. Dramatic irony is a form of irony that is expressed through a work’s structure: an audience’s awareness of the situation in which a work’s characters exist differs substantially from that of the characters’, and the words and actions of the characters therefore take on a different—often contradictory—meaning for the audience than they have for the work’s characters.

How would they know that Heaven isn't better?

i don't know how to make it stop but i know how to make it quieter

Probably need a healthier way of dealing with this than just drugs and booze.

I wish I had a task. A brutal, impossible, unending task. Something to do til death. Just a pointless labor to break myself on every day until I was ruined, all of my value and purpose extracted. Then someone would put me down, and I'd die knowing that there was no other point to existing.

Every second I spend trying to defy my nature is just time I spend hurting others with my presence. Too loud, too bright, too fake. Everyone can tell i'm full of shit. They know I'm not likeable or pleasant or fun, they just humor me.

I'm not capable of anything worth talking about. There are better people to spend your time with, in any case. I'm not capable of even faking it til I make it. I've always known where I belong, where i'm going. Maybe it's just time to stop pretending I'm something valuable and let myself fall.

Even this shit is just wasting space on people's feeds.

Genuinely: I've always felt that I'm not welcome anywhere I go. Like the best thing I can do in any situation is just shut the fuck up and stay out of the way. My biggest contribution to any situation is padding the roster. The space I take up could literally go to anyone else and be a better use.

Everything I do ends the eaxct same way. I put all of my effort into something, sometimes months of work and suffering. The end product will annoy everyone that is forced by algorithm or misfortune to interact with it. Then I go to bed alone. Could just skip to the last step, save everyone time.