All my words

"Okay, so, people are saying we should BAN STEVE. WHY? Well, have you ever fought Steve? He’s a bloody menace! He’s no joke. He’s clearly the most powerful character, top of the so-called TIER LIST, which is just a dominance hierarchy, by the way, and God knows the radical left hates dominance hierarchies, so they say, let’s just BAN HIM!   And that’s just their solution to everything, isn’t it? Take the most successful individual and just banish him from society? That’s what they did to Socrates! That’s what they did to Jesus for Christ’s sake— it’s an archetypal story as old as time!   But they’re wrong . You can’t just ban everything that upsets you. Why don’t you look in the mirror eh? How about you clean your damn room? Maybe STEVE’S not the real issue here! Maybe it’s you! Maybe your entire life is an unending nightmare of CHAOS and you’re just using Steve as a scapegoat for your own personal inadequacies? Ever thought of THAT?   So what if Steve’s building a hou...

Tired. In office. Cant sleep on desk. Coworkers will be concerned. Drink some coffee. Ingest more stimulants, they will say. No. It’s 2 pm.   The 2009 Toyota Camry I just purchased has a rather roomy trunk. The car is good as new, too. I think it would actually be quite comfortable to sleep in there.   Forget to take the keys in with me and be the most embarrassed man of all time stuck inside the trunk of his own sedan. I text my girlfriend with the remaining 34% battery left on my phone. She doesn’t see it. Her phone is locked inside a cubby at work.  I start calling people. Leave several harrowing texts. Hey man this is going to sound ludicrous but I am trapped in the trunk of my car. My phone is dying. I am located at 9215 151st St, Redmond, Washington. My coworkers can’t know. They’ll never let it go.  Friends now know instead. It’s getting around. Thomas is trapped in his trunk. LOL. My phone dies. I just lay there wasting away hoping someone decides this proble...

I want to be a good boyfriend. But it takes so much time. You can’t optimize it for efficiency. You just have to be there with her. Hour after empty hour, laying together in silence, healing her with your affection and love.   I don’t hate it. But it’s like eating candy. I know that if this is all I do then I will degenerate into nothing.   But you hate to make her feel like she’s a waste of your time. And she’s not. But you know you could be doing more.   What I need is a clone of myself who can be a real good boyfriend and reap the mental benefits of physical connection while the part of me with a brain works to make something significant of my (our) life.   Is that so wrong to want.

if you want people to remember you, give them something they will use often wearing my striped blue h&m t shirt i’ve had for like 6 years. i got it from noah brown in the second semester of my freshman year of college. the guys were giving their clothes away and i was everybody’s little brother so i happily took his shirt and i wear it today thinking of him.   i’m typing on a $500 electric standing desk i got from my friend poda. he suddenly had to leave the united states and with no time to sell his things so he pretty much gave everything away to my girlfriend and I. we couldn’t believe it. His yearly salary as a software engineer was probably more than both of ours combined. i type on it now thinking of him.  

Sunken like you haven’t slept in weeks. Sunken like your wife just left and took the kids. Sunken like you are no one and have nothing left.   I feel for people with sunken eyes. I can see the tragedy of their life in one quick facial scan. Because they’re me. Sleep has never been natural for me. Sleeping at the same time every night, getting up at the same time every morning. It doesn’t feel possible in the world of blinking shining screens. But some people do it somehow. Some people do it. And some people don’t have terribly ugly dark sunken eyes all day every day of their life.   In college I bought some concealer that matched my skin tone (barely) and often smeared it carefully under my eyes before going out to a socially demanding event. I probably looked better. In certain lighting you could tell though. Or at least I could. Nobody ever told me. And I can’t tell if it’s because I hid it well or because they just didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I think I would tell my fr...

in my head, some smash gamers can have it all. they can be great at smash, best in their region, winning tournaments, physically fit, mentally stable, maintain connections with non-smash-playing humans (or at least their family), have gf, have a decently fulfilling job and make decent money so they can feed themselves decent food driving a decent car and living in a decent place with other decent folks living decent lives.   i used to think i was just stupid for not being able to progress from regional to national-level threat but i’m starting to see that i’m just unwilling to pay the price of it: pretty much all your time. it’s not just an hour a day. try six. and six hours of every single day is gargantuan for an adult who wants to maintain the rest of their decent life.  

just make more money just earn more riches just secure more funds just increase your income just get more dollars just stack more paper just collect more dough just convince more people to give you more currency tokens   just take more money from others just end up with it somehow this will solve everything!

everyone who works on cars professionally looks like they want to kill me like for christ sake this stupid dumbass urbanite posh faggot white kid can’t tell the rear engine transmission valve from the automatic flux capacitator. smh

yesterday at zoo with friends. struggle to repress dark thoughts. we get to the elephant. it’s in jail. dark dirt room with big roman pillars. we view it from behind huge glass screen. it stands there sadly. most humanoids are unphased. they comment on its funny trunk.   i’m staring at this big sad creature. staring directly into the void. my friends are ready to move on. i’m silently communicating with the elephant via ESP. i tell him that i feel the same way, all day inside. staring at a screen. wanting to thrash around and break free but knowing it’s pointless. enduring those vacuous stares all day. always under surveillance. moving like you’re underwater. that slight grip in your chest — drowning all the time. i want to touch him. i can’t tell why i think he’s sentient in a way the other animals aren’t. some look in his eyes. we’ve been locked for several minutes now.   friend comes over and says hey lets move on. i’m like okay. but i could stare at this thing all day. for...